Infinite
by Skittles001
Summary: Final chapter is up. Simon's got a lot on his mind, with the apocalypse and all. Sucks to be him. Doomsday is only a day away how would you deal with that? Hope you Enjoy. R and R, if you please.
1. The Beginning

Simon's legs dangled off the roof as he peered over the expanse of the New York City skyline. The sun beat against his bear skin, and he sighed contentedly when all he felt was a soft, warming tingle on the nape of his neck, rather than the burning inferno expected from most vampires.

But he wasn't like most vampires.

He looked down on the street below him, swinging his legs back and forth on the Institutes brick walls. Of course, he couldn't actually go inside the institute, being one of the eternally damned, but no one had said anything about him being on the institute. The roof was fair game.

He smiled when he heard footsteps echoing lightly behind him, treading as softly as possibly to try and catch him off guard.

"You should know better by now. I'm super-vamp after all."

She sighed miserably and plodded along until she leaned against the roof's railing.

"So how've you been?" he asked, keeping his eyes glued to the horizon, while suppressing a toothy grin.

"Better, now you're here." He heard the smile in her voice, but chose to ignore it. He had way too much on his mind right now.

"Thanks for coming up with this."

"No problem. After all, it's my house, too."

Simon finally peeled his gaze away and glanced at Isabelle through the corner of his eyes. The wind had caught her hair and made it float like a halo around her. She stared longingly into the distance, her mind drawn to someplace far away. Her face was serious and her eyes were flooded with sadness, but fuelled by determination. Suddenly, her eyes flickered sideways and she caught him staring. Simon couldn't blush, but he definitely grew a few shades paler, ad Isabelle grinned wickedly.

"Penny for your thoughts?" he mumbled, trying to sort out his head. After all, he had called her for a reason.

"They'll cost a lot more than a penny." she sighed, and pushed herself away from the wall. Simon turned around and stood on the ledge. Although Isabelle had suggested this compromise, he still couldn't enter the Institute, and the rooftop garden would count.

"You rang?" Izzie fiddled with the tail of her whip, which was wrapped around her belt in a coil. Her dress was white and simple, sinched in at the waist and flowing out until the knees, where it came to an abrupt stop. The contrast between her pale skin and her flowing dark hair made her startling, since she was already beautiful inside and out, Simon thought, but he quickly scolded himself. He had decided to leave his love problems at home, and until he worked out what to do with his new-found "popularity", he put all romantic intentions on the back burner. He had already turned down a date with Maia to the Multiplex for an Early Hollywood Horror marathon, which she promised would be ridiculed beyond belief. As much as it pained him, he declined. He also had to change his cell phone number when several girls at school had began stalking him, and one turned out to be an excellent hacker, and somehow wired his video camera to turn on spontaneously. It came as a bit of a shock to his system when at school on Monday morning, several girls were hanging topless pictures of him on their "acceptable boys" wall. As Clary had warned him "Hotness can be a hassle."

Not that she was around to help him any more.

"It's important."

"So what do you need, Si-Fi?"

"Si-Fi?"

"I thought I'd try it out."

"And?"

"It just doesn't fit. Let me think about it. So why did you call me?"

"Look out into the skyline with me. Just for one second."

"Wow, way to proposition me."

"Iz….

"Oh, all right!"

Isabelle bounded over and leaped agilely onto the ledge. Even though there was no chance of her falling, since she was too skilled for that, Simon still grabbed her arm to steady her. She looked down at his pale hand grasping her arm and cocked an eyebrow in amusement. He quickly relinquished his grip and pointed out to the sky.

"Do you see that?"

"See what?"

"That!" Simon pointed at the looming black cloud hanging over the Empire State building. Thunder rolled and lightning flashed emanated from its charcoal coloured confines. It growled like a hungry Lion looming around its prey, ready to attack, and every day it just got closer and closer.

And he seemed to be the only one who could see it.

Isabelle squinted, and her dark eyes narrowed in frustration. "What am I meant to be looking at here, Simon?"

And that just confirmed it.


	2. The Strike

_A/N: I do not own City of....anything, and I love Cassadra Clare and all her characters. Anything I do is out of love of story! hope you like it. and review if possible, I really want to improve._

The storm cloud had been lingering for weeks, edging closer and closer to the city. Ordinarily he wouldn't have given it a second thought, Clouds? In New York? Shocker!  
But this was different.  
For one thing, he was the only one who was able to see it.  
Every morning he crept downstairs, pulled out a bowl and added the tiniest bit of cereal to a drop of milk to make it seem like he had eaten and turned on the morning weather. He would flip through every one of the channels and try to catch every forecast before his mother woke up. When she did come looking for her morning caffeine rush, he changed to cartoons and stretched back to watch. This was usually followed by an exasperated sigh and a "You really will have to grow up sometime, Simon." Little did she know.  
Isabelle continued her scan of the sky line. Pursing her lips, she turned nimbly on the ledge.  
"I don't see anything."  
"No storm cloud?"  
"No?" she laughed. "It's a beautiful day, Simon. In fact it's so nice that if I were at the beach, I would so go topless to get an even tan."  
No mental images, Simon scolded himself.  
"Like the image, Simon?" Isabelle purred seductively, creeping closer to him and fluttering her long, luscious eyelashes. Simon never realised how good she smelled, how utterly delicious….  
"I'm hungry."  
"Oh, I could get you something from the kitchen, if you want?"  
"No, Iz, I'm hungry."  
Isabelle tutted and then leaped off the roof. "Fine. Feed. But call me later."  
"Absolutely," He smiled, but felt an empty gaping hole in his chest, right where his un-beating heart rests.  
Isabelle danced her way to the large metal door at the edge of the roof, before turning abruptly and said "I like the fringe. It's hot."  
Simon smiled crookedly. "It's not really. It's just a necessity."  
"Simon," she said, shaking her head, "learn to take a compliment. God knows you'll get a lot of them."  
Simon rolled his eyes. "Great, soon I'll be as self-confident as Jace."  
"You say that like it's a bad thing." she grinned. "Now do your Spiderman thing."  
Simon smiled and made sure she was watching before he jumped backwards and fell off the roof, catching the wall and scaling down the red brick to the city street. He landed nimbly on a dustbin lid and hopped off. There was no one on the street so he ducked out of the alley and made his way to the main street.  
The sky groaned and grumbled above him and he quickened his pace. Simon made it to the record shop two blocks away in a matter of seconds and pushed the door open. The smell of smoke caught him first, followed by the fragrant odour of a public bathroom. Simon wrinkled his nose and walked to the Vinyl section.  
He flipped through, sub-consciously taking in artists names, until he came across one that caught his eye. He pulled it out of the pile and a grin spread across his face. The Smiths.  
Clary had forced him to listen to them on repeat for three months straight during her "I'm a pale and tortured artist" phase when she was fourteen; before their lives drastically changed forever. He felt an odd pang, and suddenly longed to hear the sound of her voice. Of course, their contact had been severed ever since she started seeing Jace; she just never seemed to have time for Simon any more. Which is when Simon made other plans and liaised with Isabelle on the roof on an almost daily basis. She was more of a friend lately than Clary was; which made him happy and sad at the very same time. Inspired in the moment, Simon grabbed the record, gave the change to the hung-over shop assistant and walked into the glaring mid-day sun. He paced down the quiet street until he saw a quaint little coffee shop. He smiled and leaned against the wall, staring at passers-by before he decided what he had to do.  
Simon grabbed his brand new phone and punched in Clary's number. He memorised it years ago so it swiftly flew from his fingers to the key pad without a second's hesitation.  
It rang three times before she answered.  
"Hello?" she said gruffly. Clary sounded out of breath and flustered, but Simon couldn't figure out why.  
"It's Simon."  
"Simon?" the shock in her voice actually cut him like a knife. "What's wrong?"  
Everything. "Oh, Nothing really. Just thought we could meet up, have some coffee, point laugh and stare at bystanders. You know. The usual."  
"I don't know Simon," Clary hedged and answer and he heard a snort in the background. "I'm sort of….busy at the moment."  
Simon could her soft giggle and sighs, and even without his vampire hearing aid, he could tell what that was. Anger bubbled through him and he gritted his teeth together. "You know what Clary; Call me the next time you aren't getting penetrated, okay?"  
He heard her scream of indignation and the beginning of a profanity before he snapped his phone shut.  
The cloud grew closer and closer. Now it loomed overhead. This was no run of the mill weather anomaly. And he needed help to figure out what it was.  
He grabbed his phone, thankful for his 500 extra free minutes, and punched in Isabelle's number.  
"Couldn't stay away, huh?"  
"No, I couldn't control myself!"  
"Wow, you are sounding more like Jace!"  
"Hardy-Har-Har Iz, I need your help."  
"Another sky surveillance mission. With a romantic setting and moons and stars? I'm on to you, Simon Lewis!"  
"No, I need you….."  
"Oh I know you do!"  
Simon sighed. "I need you to help me find Magnus."  
"What?"  
"Do you know where he is?"  
"More than likely he is making out with my brother." Her breath hitched, and Simon knew she was replaying Max's death again. She did it several times a day, always going back and trying to see if she could have saved him. Survivor's guilt. She could never find a solution, but Isabelle would never forgive herself for as long as she lived.  
"Isabelle?" Simon whispered softly down the phone, and he could actually hear her sniffing away the tears that she would never let fall.  
"I'm fine."  
"Do you want to come?"  
"Come where?"  
"To Magnus'?"  
"I don't know Simon?" she hedged around an answer, humming and hawing, before Simon decided to sweeten the deal. "There's a slice of cake in it for you."  
"I don't know…."  
"And a coffee!"  
"Black?"  
"Like my soul!"  
"Deal." she laughed.  
"Meet me downstairs in ten minutes."  
"It's a date."  
Simon pierced his lip with his left incisor, which seemed to be retracting back and forth as he spoke. He was so hungry."  
"It's not a date."  
"We'll see about that!" she teased before hanging up.  
Great, thought Simon, I miss blissful ignorance.  
But he couldn't keep the smile off his face.  
Well, until the lightning bolt cracked open the pavement beneath his feet.


	3. Infernal Happenings

**Simon instinctively leaped to the wall, crawling backwards, or should that be upwards. **

"**What in the…." There was a thin fissure spreading through the sidewalk, like a crack in a window; starting off small, but growing and growing until the whole thing imploded. **

**Simon craned his head upwards and saw the cloud looming directly overhead in the azure sky. He couldn't be sure, but he swore it seemed more…..**_**solid **_**than a cloud out to be. His glasses began to slip off the bridge of his nose, and he smacked them back into place before he leaped off the wall and landed on the sidewalk, staring down at this smoking crevice in the ground, and that's when things turned from bad to worse. **

**He only stood there for a moment before the pavement cracked underneath him and a split in two and the whole sidewalk gave way. The cacophony of cracking rang in his ears and a lump formed in his throat. The burning he felt when he was hungry subsided; It was replaced by fear.**

**The gaping canyon in the middle of the street grew and devoured everything in it's path; man-hole covers and fire hydrants falling into the dark abyss below. Simon stood on the edge of the chasm, peering into the endless ravine beneath his feet and knew he wasn't seeing the New York sewers; He was staring into the burning, churning inferno of death and despair. **

**He was staring into Hell. **

**Mesmerised, he leaned in closer, the scent of sulphur burning his sensitive nostrils. **

**And then he slipped. **

**He fell for what seemed like an eternity, but what was more likely a second and grabbed hold to anything that wouldn't give way. He scrabbled through the nooks and crannies, desperately holding on, while New York flew further and further away. **

**His glasses fell and spiralled through the rift, floating on and on before disappearing into the red hot flames that he saw crawling up the rock face. **

**He heard malevolent groan from below him the sound edging closer and closer, before he heard a voice. It echoed through his skull, beating against his ears. **

_**Let go.**_

"**N-no." Simon stuttered helplessly, the intense heat burning his skin. **

_**Let go. It's not like anyone would care of you were gone. They'll all be dead soon anyway.**_

"**Stop it!" He screamed, his voice strangled.**

_**Stop it! **_**The voice sneered, **_**You're pathetic, Simon Lewis. A waste of space. An abomination. **_

**Simon scrabbled up the rocks, crawling closer and closer to the surface, but the voice just got louder and louder; like the engine of an airplane in his skull. **

_**Simon, let go. You have to let go. **_

"**Why?" he screamed.**

_**You will be the death of her. **_

**Simon grew cold, and was frozen in place, his hand rigid on the last rock in the chasm.**

"**What?"**

**The voice was gone. **

"**What do you mean? **

**The voice did not respond. **

**A bell rang in Simon's ears and suddenly, he was thrust out of the ground. He landed on the sidewalk with a thud, slamming into a garbage can and folding it in half from the impact. He sat up shakily and stared at the sky above him. The cloud was moving. **

**And then the voice was back. **

_**I gave you your chance. Now you must deal with the consequences. Good-bye young Vampire.**_

"**No!" Simon screamed, thrusting himself upright and yelling at the sky. "Tell me what's happening!"**

**He never heard the voice again. **

**The ground had sealed itself and all that was left was the smoking hole. **

**Simon wrung his hair in his hands, and threw his fist into the wall with all the force he could. He took it away, and left the wall with a large indent.**

"**Nice. You'll have to teach me that trick." **

**Simon whirled around, and saw Isabelle. And for a strange second he felt such utter relief that his legs nearly buckled beneath him, but he wasn't sure why. **

"**Are you okay?" she asked, worried by the bewildered look on his face, which she would have found cute if it weren't marred by his manic stare.**

"**I will be." he assured her. "As soon as we get to Magnus'!"**

"**Wow, you're eager. I thought we would get some coffee first, maybe some furious flirtation, followed by a completely inappropriate make-out session by the lake in central park?"**

"**Trying to make Meliorn jealous, are we?"**

"**among other things." she teased. "What's that?" **

"**Oh," Simon thought she was talking about the hole, but she wasn't staring at the ground,. "I bought an album downtown, thought I'd…"**

"**Not that…." she stood before him, her face only a few centimetres from his. "This." her hand gently touched his fringe, ready to sweep it away to reveal the mark of Cain, before she jerked her hand away, like she had been shocked. **

"**What?" he asked, breathing a sigh of relief that she hadn't uncovered his dirty little secret. **

"**N-nothing." she held her arm close to her chest cradling it from shock. **

"**Izzie, what is it?" Simon was genuinely worried by her expression. **

"**Nothing, I just got a shock that all?"**

"**Why?" **

"**I'm not sure." Isabelle paled . **

"**You don't look so good."**

**She sneered. "That's just what a girl wants to hear, Simon. Thanks so much." **

"**I didn't mean…" **

"**I know." she sighed. "Let's get to Magnus'."**

"**I thought you wanted coffee first."**

"**I did. But now, I think we should go there first."**

"**Why?"**

**She sighed and narrowed her eyes at him in disgust. "So, Simon, you have time to explain to me why you just happen to have The Mark Of Cain on your forehead."**

_**Oh crap.**_


	4. WhipCrack Away

_**Knock, knock, knock. **_

**Simon waited on the stoop outside the door while Isabelle persistently rattled on the door.**

"**He might not be home, Iz."**

**She heaved an exasperated sigh and rolled her eyes at him. "He's in, Simon."**

"**How do you know?"**

"**Because, it's two o'clock in the afternoon. The attic window is cranked open; I just saw Captain Meow; and, drum roll please, I asked Alec already! Happy now?"**

"**Not particularly, no." he spat. That was the final straw. Isabelle leaped from the stairs, her black coat floating around her like a cape, sending her further down the path. She landed in a cat-like crouch. She cocked her head up and there was a deadly glint in her dark eyes. Her hair was pulled back in a braid that hung down her back, which gave her the impression of being the child of an Amazonian warrior, and Neo in **_**The Matrix**_**. Isabelle stood again and faced him, her whip unravelled and skulking like a snake on the sidewalk. Simon saw her hand twitch eagerly at her side, just waiting for her move. **

"**Isabelle, Don't." **

**Simon flipped off the stoop and clung to the wall, as the golden-whip narrowly missed his right ear. Simon leaped onto the red brick building and scaled the wall, getting far enough away to stop her from hurting him, and worse, hurting herself.**

"**I can still get you from here. Just give me a reason!" She flicked her wrist, and the stone gargoyle beside him cracked in half and fell to the ground, before shattering into a thousand, tiny fragments.**

"**Here's a reason," Simon snapped, trying and failing to keep his voice calm and reasoned. "you hit me, you get it back seven times over."**

"**Empty threat." she hissed, but her whip grew a little more slack as she said it.**

**Simon leaped off the wall and landed beside her. "I'm serious. Trust me, you shouldn't hurt me."**

"**Why?"**

"**Because I can't bear to hurt you."**

**Her expression didn't soften, but she coiled her whip and slung it on her belt. "Fine."**

**Simon carefully narrowed the space between them. "You don't believe me do you?"**

"**Oh I do." she laughed. "Trust me. If I wanted to hit you, I would have hit you. I guess I can't bear to hurt you either."**

**Simon grinned wickedly. He noticed a strand of her hair hanging in her eyes. Unconsciously, he reached up and swept it out of her eyes. Her eyes flickered towards his, and he felt a small twinge in his chest. Isabelle jumped back and clutched her chest. **

"**Izzie?" Simon started toward her, but she held a hand up to stall him. She sucked in a sharp breath and a sly smile spread across her face. "Are you ok?"**

"**Never better. Just figured something out."**

"**and what's that?"**

"**That whatever I do to you, I get back seven fold." A grin spread across her face, and she took a step toward him, narrowing the distance. Simon gulped, but kept his face amused. **

"**Yeah, I told you that earlier." he laughed. **

"**No, Simon." her face was directly in front of his, tilted to the left as she whispered in his ear seductively, her warm breath tickling his cold skin. She batted her eyelashes and leaned in closer. Simon could taste her scent in his back of his throat. His throat grew hot and dry, but it wasn't from hunger. It was from desire. **

**Simon's lips parted and Isabelle's lip curled at the corners as the began to close the gap keeping them apart. **

"**Whatever. I. Do. To. You." she whispered, and Simon's chest clenched. He closed his eyes and awaited paradise. **

"**Hmm-hmm." Someone cleared their throat and Isabelle and Simon blinked in unison, before reluctantly breaking apart. **

"**I thought you wanted to see me." Magnus laughed. "I didn't realise you just wanted an audience."**


	5. Three Kinds of Fabulous

_**Magnus' apartment hadn't changed much since the last time he was here, although that familiar tremble of fear rallied through his spine. After all, it was that night that has changed the course of his life forever. After having his drink spiked and becoming a rat, he had entered into the realms of vampirism. He still remembered the hands grabbing him and unceremoniously stuffing him in their bag before taking him back to their lair. He also remembered having an odd craving for cheese for a week afterward. **_

_**Isabelle slammed the door behind her and threw herself onto the closest chair, irritation flitting across her face. She played with the end of her newly-coiled whip and stretched her long legs out, resting her feet on the edge of the coffee table. Magnus appeared from the kitchen, holding two cups of steaming hot coffee, and one cup of something warm and flavourful that sent Simon's innards on fire. Blood. It was B positive too; his favourite. **_

"_**Thanks." He murmured gratefully as he guzzled the contents of the camp, pink, kitty cup. His synapses started snapping and he groaned in pleasure. He hadn't had a chance to feed earlier, since he had been previously occupied by the swirling inferno of Hell. **_

_**Isabelle rolled her eyes. "You didn't feed?"**_

"_**I had other things on my mind." Simon shot back, craving more blood. He kept a bag of cow blood that the Butcher had given him in his mini-fridge at home, but it was nothing compared to human. Simon refused to drain straight from the source. He wasn't a murderer. He would have to kill anyone he fed from, or else they would become like him. And he would not be the death of another human being.**_

_**You'll be the death of her.**_

**What the hell did that mean? **

"**You should have fed!" Isabelle said. **

"**I know. But I was busy."**

"**Sure you were."**

"**Wow," Magnus said, dropping his cup on the table with a thud, its contents spilling over the brim. He rolled his eyes and snapped his fingers and the liquid flowed back into the cup. "You too are like an old married couple."**

"**Are not." Isabelle and Simon replied in unison. **

"**Hey, if the prune juice fits."**

**Isabelle slumped further down in her chair, and became increasingly interested in a piece of lint on the sleeve of her coat. Simon decided to get down to business. **

"**Magnus, I need your help."**

"**With what?" he asked, taking a sip from his cup. "Obviously not with the ladies. I hear you've got that down."**

**Isabelle made a disgruntled sound and sat up in her seat, her dark eyes glinting dangerously. **

"**I wish." Simon muttered quietly, his eyes scanning around the apartment. Something caught his eye. **

"**Is that me?"**

**Isabelle's head craned to the right and she barked a laugh as she saw Simon's infamous foray into topless modelling. **

"**You know," she said, cocking one elegant eyebrow. "It's not half bad."**

"**I think you may have a career in modelling, my boy." Magnus said nonchalantly.**

**Simon wished another hole in the ground would swallow him up. "Why do you have it?"**

**Magnus shrugged, "I came across it on my travels, and deemed it wall worthy. It's right next to Matt Bomber and James Dean; you should be honoured, young vampire."**

"**Oh G--" Simon chocked on the word, and smacked his fist into the velvet couch cushion. **

"**I'm sure your brother will be jealous, Isabelle. He's had that picture on his phone for a week now."**

**Isabelle convulsed in a fit of laughter, her tinkling laugh causing Simon to groan. **

"**I should be jealous. But I'm three kinds of fabulous." Magnus winked, and his green ca eyes glowed in the dimmed light of the apartment. The ceiling fan hummed, swatting through the thick, stuffy air. A faint hissing sound issued from somewhere behind Simon, and he jumped up a moment before Magnus' cat, Captain Meow, scalped him.**

"**He's not a fan of vampires," Magnus said simply, "even cute ones."**

**Isabelle finally stopped laughing and smiled slyly. "He's not cute."**

"**Thanks Iz." Simon tried to sound bitter, but he was distracted by the cat, who eyed him vehemently. **

"**You're hot!" She rolled her eyes and Magnus nodded in agreement. **

"**I always had a soft spot for black haired boys." he said. **

"**I'll be sure to inform my brother."**

"**Back to business?" Simon asked, sitting down again, through restlessly cocking his head to avoid another cat attack. **

"**Lets." Magnus said, placing his cup down on the table. "First things first, Glasses…… wait." he leaned forward and inspected him. "No glasses?"**

"**No."**

"**Why?"**

"**It's not like I need them."**

"**They were a good look for you." Isabelle interjected. **

"**They had no glass." Simon sighed. **

"**Still." she muttered. **

"**Right." Magnus clapped his hands together and the lights flickered, the radio in the kitchen turned on and the ceiling fan went berserk. **

"**Hey!" Simon and Isabelle yelled in unison. **

"**Sorry. I had to grab your attention. Vampires and Nephilim are so easily distracted."**

"**Hey!" They said again. **

"**Well, first things first Simon, What possessed you to get the Mark of Cain?"**

"**How did you…?" Simon self-consciously fingered his fringe, which was glued to his fringe in the dense heat of the kitchen. There was no way he could have seen it? Simon shared a quick look with Isabelle, who seemed equally perturbed. **

"**I didn't see it." Magnus dismissed "I could feel the power radiating from you from outside my door. Why?"**

"**They were going to kill me."**

"**What?" Isabelle choked on her drink, and slammed her fist into the coffee table, cracking the dark, water-ring marked wood. **

"**It was the New York Vampire clan. They said I was an abomination, and I had to be……..**_**controlled."**_

"**So that's why. " Magnus nodded in understanding and clicked his fingers. A large white book appeared in his lap and he pawned through the pages idly. He landed on the page, the must from the book stinging Simon's sensitive nostrils.**

**A sharp, shooting pain shot through Simon head, like an icicle slicing through his skull. He cried out from the pain. Isabelle leaped from her seat and crouched beside him, draping her arms around him and cradling him close to her. **

"**What's happening?" she cried, while Simon writhed in agony. **

**Magnus blanched. "I'm not sure."**

**Simon's skull felt like it was about to implode. Black dots began to coloured his eyesight, and he slowly slipped away from consciousness, vaguely aware of Isabelle calling his name. **

**He fell with a thud on the tarmac of New York City's street, amid screaming and the acrid stench of ichor. Dazed, Simon stood and was greeted by confronted by Jace, who grabbed him and thrust him against a wall, clutching a silver dagger to the hollow of his throat. **

"**You." he spat, his eyes glowing and furious. **

"**What the hell is going on?"**

"**She's dying. And that's all you can say. Do something!"**

"**What? Who? Where am I?"**

"**Get a grip Simon. I can hold it off for a while, but I can't forever. She needs someone with her. And she wants you."**

"**Why?"**

**Jace looked to the ground, the dagger wavering at Simon's neck. He looked up again, and a stray tear flowed down Jace's cheek and his steely expression softened. **

"**Because," he said his voice cracking with emotion. "I love her, and she…"**

**Everything began to swirl, and Simon's ears rang, before everything went black, and he woke up in Magnus' living room.**


	6. The Awakening

Simon sat up, holding his head in his hands as the pounding began to subside.

"What happened?"

He sat huddled on the floor. He glanced up and saw Magus standing in front of Isabelle, an amused look on his face.

"Oh, you're awake?"

"Um… Yeah?"

"Good." Magnus muttered simply. He swept a well manicured hand through his perfectly styled, glittering blue hair. Simon narrowed his eyes as he stared at Isabelle. She had a fierce expression on her face, and her stance didn't seem normal. She had her right foot thrust behind her, her slender hip was arched at an angle, and her hand was clasping the hilt pf her whip. But she didn't move a muscle. She didn't even blink.

"Did you freeze her?" Simon asked, dumbfounded. He pushed himself off the ground and wobbled uneasily. He hadn't felt this graceless since he was human, and the sudden change disconcerted him.

Magnus stifled a short laugh. "Technically, I didn't freeze her. If I did freeze her, I would have a huge puddle on my living room carpet from the melting icicles, and I'm just not into the whole cleaning thing."

Simon walked over to Isabelle and stared at her, cocking an eyebrow as he addressed Magnus."So what did you do?"

Magnus gave Simon a crooked smile. "Let's just say I hit the pause button, before the little vixen damaged a little piece of perfection."

"Sorry?"

"She was lunging at me; she seemed to think I had something to do with your little disappearing act."

"Oh." Simon couldn't help it, as a smile started to curl the corners of his lips.

"Why don't you ask her out already?" Magnus sat down on the chair and crossed his legs, staring at Simon intently.

"It's……..complicated."

"But of course," Magnus sighed. "But isn't everything worth having?"

"So," Simon said, changing the subject. "Have you seen any storm clouds lately?"

"No, it's been hot days and even hotter nights…..If you catch my drift."

"Yeah, Great, but have you seen any storm clouds?"

Magnus' cocky grin faltered at Simon's serious, earnest expression. "No I haven't. But I assume you have, and that's why you're here."

"Got it in one."

"Should I un-pause her?"

Simon thought about it. "Maybe in a minute. I have to talk to you, in private. She can't hear us, can she?"

"Of course not. She's stuck in a moment, and she can't get out of it."

"Eugh, please don't. I hate that song."

"So young. So much to learn. Now grab a chair and tell me what's on your mind."

Simon dropped onto the couch with a sift thud and let his head swing over the edge, his dark hair plastered across the red velvet upholstery, He sighed, and his left incisor pierced his bottom lip, retracting back and forth.

"This cloud….This stupid black cloud, has been stalking me for the last couple of weeks, ever since I got this _thing!" _Simon pulled his fringe back and spat the word like it was hot, boiling venom on the tip of his tongue.

"I don't know that much about the Mark, but that seems a bit…."

"Strange?" Simon offered.

"For want of a better word."

"Well, it gets worse than hallucinations. It blew a hole in the street."

"It what?"

"Yeah, I'm now newly acquainted with the fiery pits of Hell. It's not an experience I want to relive."

For once in his life, Magnus was stick for words, so Simon soldiered on.

"There was this voice, and it kept whispering these horrible things in my head. It was……" Simon shuddered but kept going, needing to say it out loud once and for all. "It said I would be the death of her."

Magnus finally regained some composure and sat back into his seat and folded his hands together like a psychologist listening to his client. Simon kept expecting him to say "and how does that make you feel?"

"The death of whom?"

I don't know!" Simon screamed in frustration, grabbing a blue silk cushion and tearing it apart in one quick, fluid motion.

"Okay, so then what?"

"It told me to let go. And when I didn't it spat me out and told me to deal with the consequences. And now I have this sinking feeling that this is all because of the mark. I had to get it, to protect myself and my friends. But I can't kill someone….I won't!"

"I know," Magnus said softly. He leaned forward and stared at Simon. Simon felt like a giant elephant was sitting on his chest. "So what happened earlier?"

"You were thumbing through a book."

"The White book."

"And you landed on a page…."

"I was on the page of the Mark,"

"And that's when I blanked."

"And what did you see?"

Simon's throat went dry. "I was on the street. And Jace told me someone was dying, and that they wanted to see me. I think…"

"What?"

"I think I saw the future."

Magnus and Simon sat in an uncomfortable silence, only the sealing fan and the cat's purring letting them know time hadn't stood still. Magnus decided to break the ice, and cleared his throat.

"I think we should press the play button."

Simon looked around and smiled. "Yeah, we better."

Simon met Magnus' cat eyes. "She can't know about this. Not about Hell, not about the voice, and not about my future."

"Why?"

"Because, she has enough on her mind without my melodrama."

Magnus smiled. "You care about her don't you?"

"Simon didn't answer, but stared intently at the floor.

Magnus stood up and stood directly in front of Isabelle. "She's looks quite pretty when she's angry."

Simon glanced up at Magnus and smiled softly.

"She's not pretty. She's beautiful."


	7. Perfect little Liars

Magnus tucked a stray lock of Isabelle's hair behind her ear.

"That was driving me crazy. So, how do you want this to go down?"

Simon stood up and paced back and forth, treading a trail in Magnus' rug. Scratching his chin, and piercing his lip with his fang, he thought.

"Okay," he said finally. "That conversation never happened."

"What one?"

"The one about the cloud and Hell and….." Simon started, but Magnus rolled his eyes and interjected.

"You truly are dense, aren't you?"

Simon was about to argue, but decided it wasn't the time.

"We will steer clear of anything in relation to any future happenings, but I will ask you about my little…._problem._"

"Your inability to express yourself clearly?"

"My cloud!"

Magnus rolled his eyes again and stamped his foot. Simon hissed, and the lamp that sat on the table beside him exploded in a wave of sparks and fireworks.

Simon jumped back and Magnus _tsk_ed, and waggled his finger. "Don't get pissy with me. I may not be able to hurt you, but I can give you something to worry about_, Capische_? Do you understand?"

Simon pursed his lips. "All except Capische. Are you ready to do this?"

"Are you kidding?" Magnus laughed heartily and gave Simon a sly grin. "I was born for the theatre!"

Simon snorted at Magnus' attempt at a theatrical British accent. "Do your Wizard thing?"

"Warlock, thank you very much." Magnus took and exaggerated step back and snapped his finger, and Isabelle sprang to life. She tumbled forward, and began to fall, before righting herself in a mid-air leap and landing in a position that could only be achieved after years of training, and lots of flexibility.

Simon tried not to think about her flexibility.

"What did you….Simon?" her head shot up as she saw him, and he gave her a simple, lopsided smile, and a short wave that he immediately regretted. She shook her head, and stood up, before quickly pulling him into her arms in an embrace. Isabelle rested her head on Simon's shoulder and he took in her scent. She looked into his eyes for a brief moment, before smacking him in the arm. She then winced and shucked off her jacket, revealing a large red welt in the place where she had just hit Simon.

"Son of a Were!"

Simon laughed, and she glared at him. "It's your own fault. I warned you. Besides, you've had worse."

"Besides," Magnus chimed in. "It does make things pretty kinky."

Isabelle snapped her whip out of her belt as warning, but did not use it. She didn't blush, but she didn't meet Simon's eyes either.

"What happened?"

"I passed out." Simon decided the simpler the answer, the less likely he would be to get in trouble.

"And why did you pass out?"

"Because," he sighed dramatically, "I didn't feed when I was supposed to, like a good little vampire, and I had to suffer the repercussions. Side-effects of not feeding may include fainting, nausea and a mass murder in the mall."

"Thanks for the infomercial!" She snorted, but Simon knew he wasn't out of the woods yet.

"So," Magnus said, elongating the syllable for dramatic effect. "Let's get down to business, before this one," he jerked his thumb at Simon. "Decides to take another daytrip."

Simon shot him a warning look and Magnus licked his lips mischievously before conjuring up another bag of blood. "For the hunger pains." he quipped, before seating himself on the chair he had vacated only minutes before.

Simon gulped down the blood eagerly, feeling the warmth spread through his chest and every cell in his body seemed to scream in delight.

"So, I have this ominous, dark cloud stalking me. Ever since I got this." he swept his fringe back. Isabelle sprang lithely across the floor and seated herself directly beside him. Her knee brushed against his and her hand twitched in her lap. Simon was sure she was about to reach out to grab his, and swallowed his impending smile.

"It may be, for want of a better term, a side effect of the Mark."

"You think?" Isabelle snapped, clearly peeved. "I think that's pretty obvious, don't you?"

"Wow, she is pretty when she's pissed, Huh Simon?" he chuckled, watching her expression change from anger, to shock, to amusement, to flirtatious, and back to anger.

"Shut up." she murmured.

"Whoa, great comeback!"

"Watch it Magnus," she hissed, her dark eyes glowing maliciously, "or else."

"Or else what?" he sniggered.

"I think you know….." she winked, and his expression grew dark. He snapped his mouth shut.

"So," Simon said, clearly uncomfortable. "A side effect, you say?"

"Well," Magnus cleared his throat. "There isn't much documented on the Mark of Cain. Since most of its wearers are doomed to a life of eternal wandering and loneliness."

Isabelle glanced at Simon. "I didn't know that?" Simon shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly to hide his discomfort.

"It's not something I have to deal with yet." he muttered inanely.

"Didn't you read you textbooks, Isabelle?"

"No, Magnus, I was too busy learning how to kick your ass. Now shut up and get back to business."

"Oooh, Feisty one you are!"

"Magnus," she warned and he raised his eyebrows to the ceiling.

"All I can tell you is that it's got to do with the mark, and unless it's giving you trouble, like Oh, I don't know, Hypothetically, Blowing up streets, sending you to hell, making you hear voices and letting you see the future, I'm pretty sure you have nothing to worry about!"

Simon's mouth went dry and his back grew tense. Magnus' lips were curved in a cocky knowing smile, but he said nothing. Isabelle seemed pretty relieved.

"Well, that's okay then." she flipped her ponytail over her shoulder and stood up, looking around the apartment.

"Hey, where's my jacket?"

"Oh, that." Magnus laughed. "I got sick of cleaning up after myself, so I rigged my apartment to clean up after me instead. Everything that hit's the floor gets put away. Your jacket should be in the coat closet in my bedroom."

"That's clever." she smiled and brushed his shoulder as she passed. "I'll grab it and then we can go, Psycho!"

"Psycho?" Simon said.

"Yeah, that doesn't fit either." she mused, nonplussed. "Let me keep thinking about it."

"All right."

She entered the bedroom and Magnus moved to stand beside Simon, a smile playing across his face.

"Psycho? It seems perfect to me!"


	8. Blackhole Revelations

"Honey, we're home." Simon leaned against the railing on the gate in front of the Institute, his hands stuffed in his pockets and his head hanging back, staring up at the slowly darkening sky. The pale shades of grey melded into the twilight and navy blue darkness; only the twinkling stars and the night-lights on the street keeping the all-consuming darkness away. Although, the darkness wasn't a problem for him, thanks to his keen eyesight.

Isabelle held her jacket on the crook of her arm and threw the gate open, a trace of a smile playing on her lips.

"So, it's honey, now?"

"Well, "Simon said gruffly, "I didn't think I could off baby-doll."

"You're right," she laughed," you can't."

They relaxed into a comfortable silence, one of those perfect silences that leave you desperate for the world to stop so you can live in it forever. Unfortunately, his phone broke the moment with an unearthly screaming and chaotic drum playing. Simon's --still un-named-- band. Simon checked the display and groaned.

"You better answer that." Isabelle said, twisting her mouth to stop herself laughing. "You know how she gets."

"Yeah," he sighed. "She's a little bundle of eternal sunshine."

Isabelle snorted. "More like a force to be reckoned with. Now answer it."

The phone fell dead in his hand, and Simon breathed a sigh of relief. It was short lived, however, as his phone made that harrowing sound again.

"Answer it," Isabelle groaned, "before my ears start to bleed."

"We aren't that bad." Simon said, before flipping the phone open and hearing a scream on the other end.

"Finally!" Clary's voice cried from the receiver, anger colouring her tone.

"Oh yes you are." she mouthed silently before hopping inside the gate. She quickly hopped out again and gave Simon a quick kiss on the cheek, He stared at her, his jaw hitting the pavement and she smiled and leaped inside the large wooden doors of the Institute.

"Simon!" Clary screamed, bringing him back down to earth with a thud. Simon wrinkled his brow and pursed his lips, took a deep sigh and said "Hi, Clary!"

"If you ever," she hissed, and suddenly she reminded Simon of a dragon from one of her comics of a dark prince. "Speak like that to me again, Simon Lewis, I will --in no uncertain terms-- kill you!"

"Nice speaking to you too, Clary!"

She heaved a sigh, seemingly to control her temper. "Okay," she said slowly, "I get it, you're upset."

"Do you even know why I'm upset?"

She hesitated, "Simon, I get it. I haven't been spending any time with you lately….."

Simon stopped in the middle of the street. "You don't get it!" he cried, running a hand through his hair in frustration and nearly snapping his phone from anger. "I get it, you have a boyfriend. You love him, whatever."

"Simon," she said softly, but he kept going, breaking into a steady jog as he spoke. Running always cleared his head, and right now, his mind was a big jumble of messed up crap.

"No," he said, "look, I like Jace."

"What?"

"Well, I do, kind of. I don't want to eat him, at least."

She snorted. That was a good sign. Simon began to slow to a walk and turned the corner to his house. _That was fast_, he thought.

"You weren't there."

Clary sounded confused. "When?"

"You weren't there when I needed you."

"Simon," she sounded upset, even though she wouldn't let her voice betray her emotions. Simon just knew her well enough to tell. "I've been going through some stuff."

Simon gritted his teeth and clenched his jaw. "Haven't we all, Clary."

"Simon, I'm sorry."

And Simon believed her. Simon rummaged in his jeans pocket for his house key, and remembered that he had left it behind him. He walked to the plant pot on the window sill, and sifted through the soil until he pulled out the spare key with a "Like what you see? Dial 1800- You Wish" keychain attached to it. The key stuck in the door, and Simon rested the phone between his shoulder and his ear so he could get in the door.

"It's okay. It's not like I've been making much of an effort either."

Clary breathed heavily down the phone and he heard rustling in the background. "I have a free afternoon tomorrow."

"Yeah?" Simon's key finally opened the lock and he threw the bright blue door inwards, where it crashed into the white wall with a bang. He winced, and hoped his Mom wouldn't notice the notch he had just carved in the wall.

"So," Clary continued, "I was thinking, we should get together."

"Wow, Proposition me much?"

"Watch it Simon," she warned, although her tone was teasing, "I will kick your ass."

"Yes," he agreed, "and you'll suffer the consequences."

"I gave you that Mark, I can take it away."

"I'd like to see you try. So tomorrow? Java Joes for coffee and cake?"

"Mmol-de-hmm-hee-ha-he, Himod Dewem"

"What?" Simon closed the door gently behind him.

"Sorry," Clary laughed. "I had a paintbrush in my mouth."

Simon laughed. "So what did you say?"

"I said, 'You'll be the death of me, Simon Lewis."

Simon's phone crashed to the ground.

"Simon?" Clary's voice called from the receiver, but Simon didn't pick it up. He was rooted to the ground, paralyzed by fear.

_You will be the death of her._

Jace in the alleyway, crying. _"she's dying."_

Simon's brain felt like it was going to explode.

He was going to kill Clary.


	9. The Dark Age

"Simon?" Clary's voice grew fainter and fainter as Simon drew himself out of reality. He slid down the wall and stared at the wall for what felt like an eternity, trying to comprehend what was going on. When you find out you're going to kill your best friend, it's kind of hard to concentrate.

"Simon!" Clary yelled. Absentmindedly, Simon groped around on the floor for his phone, not taking his eyes off that spot. He finally cupped it in his numb hand and carefully held it to his ear, as though handling a grenade with a missing pin; held gently to stop it exploding. Although his mind was already blown to smithereens.

"Mmm." Monosyllables were about as much as he could handle.

"Are you okay? I heard a bang."

Simon began his sentence twice, but his tongue caught in his throat and only a raspy grunt came out of his mouth. Eventually he was able to find a voice, albeit a quiet, tortured one.

"I dropped my phone." he grunted, leaning his head against the door he was leaning against as he sat spread-eagled on the ground.

Clary laughed airily. "I heard. I'll see you tomorrow. We can plot revenge in that Sophomore Hacker."

Simon gulped. "You heard about that?"

"No," Clary said, a teasing cadence to her voice. "I saw it. Bye Simon."

The phone went dead in his hand. Simon remained still for another half hour, millions of questions running though his mind and none of them could be answered.

Why was this happening?

How could this be happening?

How could he stop it?

Simon enjoyed Gaming; Strategies were his thing. But even he couldn't think of a way out of this. He was in way over his head, and wasn't ashamed to admit that he needed help.

However, he was ashamed to admit that all he wanted was his Mother.

Simon scrambled up the wall as a key jangled in the lock. He flitted to the living room, and flicked on the television lightning quick. The news was on, and the preposterously pretty Weather Girl was on. Simon tried to look comfortable and not bring attention to himself, but he was way too wired to look remotely calm.

"Simon?" His mother called, the door clicking shut behind her. She fastened the dead bolt and fumbled with her shopping bags as she entered the front hall. Simon leaped up, and raced to help her with the bags. She gave him a peculiar look as he pulled the bags out of her hands, but said nothing of it, particularly pleased that he had offered to help without any incentive to do it. She hoped this would become a helpful habit from now on.

"Thanks, Honey." She said, ruffling his hair with her hand and strolling toward the kitchen. She paused at the coffee table beside the stairs. She held two fingers to her lips and kissed them softly before placing them tenderly on the picture that sat there. Simon's dad. He had died years ago, and she missed him a little more everyday. Simon followed her into the kitchen and left the bags on the counter, putting the groceries in the cupboards.

"Honey, are you sick?" She asked.

Startled, Simon stared at her. His mother's long, dark hair hung in a curtain around her face; she swept it back and shrugged off her beige Mac, leaning it on the back of the kitchen chair.

"No, I'm not." It was technically true. He wasn't sick, he just felt nauseous at the thought of Clary's limp, lifeless body cradled in his arms as blood dripped down his face from feeding.

He felt sicker when he realised the idea of feeding sent an excited shiver down his spine, mingled with sheer disgust.

"You look a little pale." She sighed. She made herself a cup of coffee, strong and black, and settled down in the living room. The flickering lights from the television distracted Simon.

"Honestly, Simon. The Weather _again_?"

Simon shrugged half-heartedly. "I find it interesting."

"You find something interesting, all right. And I'm sure it's not meteorology. Honey, do we need to have the talk again?"

If Simon could have blushed, he would be redder than if he spent a week sunbathing on the sun itself. "No, Mom. I'm good."

"Because, you know, it's a perfectly natural thing…."

"Okay, I definitely feel sick now."

Simon strolled out of the room, his head swimming, when he heard his mother groan.

"Fantastic," she exhaled heavily, taking a long sip from her cup. "Look's like the good weather is over."

Simon wheeled around and stared intently at the television screen.

"Yes," the pretty weather girl said, pouting her perfectly shaped lips dejectedly. "The Sun is saying goodbye. As you can see from the screen, there is a dark cloud making its way from across the Atlantic. It seems to be blocking out the sun and brings with it a wave of thunder, lightning and I'm afraid to say, Rain. So wrap up New York. It seems were entering the Dark Age in three days time. Back to you Tom."

"Thanks, Sue," the anchorman with the conspicuous comb-over plastered on a cheery smile and segued into a story about a squirrel on water-skis.

Simon stared at the screen for a moment longer, dazed.

"Simon?" His mom asked, craning her head around to see her Son staring intently at the screen, his jaw clenched and his knuckles white. "Are you okay?"

_No_, He wanted to say. _I'm really not. _

_He had three days before his world came crashing down around him. _

_And Simon never was good with deadlines. _


	10. FanFreakingTastic

"Bye, Mom." Simon shouted before slamming the door behind him. He briefly heard his mother say "Oh…" before the door snapped shut.

Simon began to build up momentum and chased down the street; running as fast and as far as his legs could carry him. When he reached the Brooklyn Bridge, he stared overhead, watching the skyline.

And he saw nothing.

A few barges passed through the water; causing ripples to tear through the murky waters of the Hudson River. Cars passed, Horns blared and there was a general feeling of restlessness and chaos that mirrored the city that never sleeps.

But no cloud in sight.

"Maybe it's not the same thing." became his new mantra, but that gnawing feeling in the back of his neck told him otherwise.

His little stalker was making an unwelcome visit.

Simon pulled out his phone and scrolled through his phonebook. He needed help. And there were strength in numbers.

However, his plans were cut short when Eric's name flashed on his display.

"Eric?"

"Dude," Eric's voice broke through Simon's wall of reverent silence with a smash-bang. "You won't believe it!"

"What? Did Melanie let you past second?"

"Shut up and listen." That meant no. Eric persevered. "I'm about to drop some freaking awesome knowledge on you!"

"Eric," Simon sighed. "Do you really have to talk like a radical surfer? You live in Brooklyn."

"Shut up and listen Simon. We've got a gig?"

The news was enough to shock Simon from the strategy he was planning. "How can we have a gig? We don't even have a name?"

"Details, details." Eric's boundless enthusiasm was infectious, and even Simon was feeling his excitement.

"When and where? And better yet, how the fudge did this happen?"

"Fudge?" Eric laughed.

"Sorry," Simon blanched. "Mom put a kibosh on cursing at home."

"It doesn't sound like you're at home, dude. Is that a barge horn?"

"Well," Simon quipped. "It doesn't sound like you're on in California in a 70's sitcom either, Homes!"

Eric sighed. "Point taken. Anyway, we're playing in The Hanged Man, so bring your guitar and be there by seven for sound check, Capische?"

"What is it with Capische? Is it on a word-of-the-day calendar or something?"

"Huh?"

Simon laughed nervously. "Nothing. Just thinking out loud."

"That's the first sign of madness, Simon."

"It's the second, Eric."

"Really?"

"Yeah, the first is being friends with you."

"Touché."

"See you later." Simon was about to hang up when he heard Eric calling his name.

"What?" He asked. Simon didn't mean to snap, but his mind was in overdrive today, and his tether was about to snap.

"It's 3 days from now. Is that okay with you?"

Simon rolled his eyes to the sky. _Let me think, in 3 days, I have to find out how to stop this cloud destroying my life, rally together the troops, and, oh yeah, try not to kill my best friend. No, I'm not busy at all._

"Sure, Eric. That sounds great."

"Fan-Freaking-Tastic!" and he hung up.

Quick as a flash he was back in his phonebook and scrolling down through the names. He found her number and waited for her to pick. Each ring was another piece of his patience disintegrating.

"Pick up, pick up, pick up, pick up…."

"Hello?"

Simon breathed a sigh of relief. "Maia."

"Hey, Simon!" Maia sounded pretty excited to hear from him, and assumed a flirtatious tone. "Are you calling to take me up on my offer?"

"Offer?"

"Dinner, a Movie, Gentle mockery and Making out?"

"Oh, that offer." Guilt washed over Simon, and he wasn't sure why. He thought it might be because he felt like he was leading Maia on, but he knew it wasn't solely because of that.

He liked Maia, he really did. Not only was she seriously hot, she was smart, funny and loved gaming. Plus, she understood what it was like to be a teenage supernatural. He could be himself around her; no lying or hiding who he was. How much more perfect could she be?

And she was perfect for him.

But when he thought about her, only one thought sprang to mind:

She wasn't Isabelle.

"Look, Maia," Simon began, but he heard her sigh heavily through the receiver.

"Nothing good starts with 'Look Maia'. You don't like me that way, I get it. But I hope we can be friends?"

"Definitely. God, you're like the coolest person I know, and you don't even have to try." Simon worried his lip with his fang, but a sense of relief washed over him.

He heard the smile in her voice. "It's just from years of experience, Simon. You rang?"

"Yeah," Simon said. "I need you to gather as many people and possible; werewolves, fairies, vampires, warlocks, you name it, and meet me outside the Institute."

"Okay. " She sounded more than a little confused. To be honest, he couldn't blame her. "But why?"

"Because we've got a battle to plan!"

"Excellent!" she cried, before hanging up the phone and getting to work.

Simon felt in control. He felt invincible. He felt free.

And then he saw a glint from the corner of his eye. And he turned to find a Seraph Blade two inches from his face.


	11. Dancing in the Moonlight

The moon shone through the night's sky; a beacon for the creatures of the night. A symbol of hope that light could always shine through darkness, illuminating everything.

Now its rays bounced of the curve of the Seraph blade, which shone menacingly in the soft moonlight, as it was poised against the hollow of his throat.

"Oh, crap." Simon was rooted to the ground, swallowing the dry lump that was building in his neck.

"Any last words?" she spoke softly, but that softness made her all the more menacing.

"Who are you? Do I know you?" Simon racked his brain, trying to draw some distant memory of this Shadowhunter girl, but nothing came to mind.

"Poor choice." she hissed, before swinging the blade with particular skill and wending it toward his neck.

Simon was thankful for his vampire-fast reflexes and jumped onto the railing beside him, sprinting across it, agile as a cat. She was close behind.

"Face me, Vampire." She cried, chasing after him. She was impossibly fast, even by Shadowhunter standards. Simon struggled to keep her at bay.

"Not until you calm the fudge down!" Simon leaped onto the lamppost and did a Gene Kelly spin around the cold metal rod before landing lithely on the ground. The girl jumped from the railing and blocked his way with her blade. They stood in the middle of the deserted path, neither moving an inch. The intense light of the blade hurt Simon's eyes, but he tried to ignore the pain as he stared at the girl, indignantly.

"Why are you doing this?"

He stared at her. He had to admit, she was very pretty. She had this perfect olive complexion, with a few freckles softly scattered across the bridge of her nose. Her hair was dark; so dark that in the moonlight it seemed to give off a blue sheen. It cascaded in waves over her shoulders and fell in arrows in her eyes. Her eyes were her most striking feature. They were large and expressive, the iridescent green showing him nothing but contempt. They were framed by dark, long eyelashes, which gave her a smoky, mysterious effect. Simon realised that's what she reminded him of, in her black t-shirt, black jeans and black pumps; she reminded him of smoke. It could appear and disappear in an instant; blending into the infinite darkness.

"That's not important." Her words caught in her throat, and her blade did not waver in her hand. Simon saw tears well up in her eyes, and a knot formed in his chest.

She gasped, and a tear rolled down her cheek. She swiped it away fiercely, not wanting to look weak.

"What the..?" She cried, clenching her jaw and gritting her teeth in fury.

"Sorry," Simon shrugged, carefully edging backward. She was quicker, however, and closed the distance he formed between them.

"What's-your-name." He said. She didn't offer up her name. "We can work something out."

"I don't co-operate with vampires."

"Well, I usually don't co-operate with people who try to kill me, so I guess we're at a stalemate."

She grunted. Simon decided to soldier on. "Look, I'm not sure what's going on here, but can we work something out?"

"No." she shook her head fiercely. "Vampires are the enemy."

"Who told you that? weren't you in Idris? we worked out a truce. We're all bosom buddies now. " Simon thought she would have snorted at his feeble attempt at a joke at least, but he was surprised to see her steely expression marred by confusion.

"What's Idris?" She asked, trying to decode whether he was tricking her or not. She decided he was and grew angrier still. Simon suddenly realised why he was having trouble remembering her. He had never met her before.

"Okay," Simon swiped the blade away quickly and felt the blaze across his palm. The girl groaned in pain and the blade fell from her hand. Simon took her hand gently in his and she pulled it away, glaring at his venomously. Simon shook his head and grabbed her hand again to check on the burn. Blisters had formed across her hand, forming white hills and red rivers of pain.

"Sorry about that." he said sincerely.

"Leave me alone." she cried.

"You're seventeen, right?"

She looked at him, startled. Simon smirked. "I guessed right. So, what's your name?"

"Gwendolyn." she murmured gruffly.

"So, Gwen…"

"Gwendolyn." she hissed.

"Gwen, how long have you been hunting?"

She closed her eyes, and Simon caught an edge of sadness in them when she opened them, which was quickly disguised by disgust.

"For six months."

"Any accomplices?"

"No. I work alone."

"I'm sorry."

She scoffed. "No, your not."

"What's your problem?!" Simon began to lose his patience. "Didn't Daddy love you enough?"

"Piss off!"

"Oh, I've struck a nerve! Just go home to your Mom, and leave the fighting to the adults, okay?"

She wrinkled her nose in distaste. "I can't."

"Why?" Simon asked, intrigued by her change in attitude. She wasn't bitchy, she was just sad.

"Because," she laughed without humour. "My family are dead. You killed them."


	12. Never More

Simon was left speechless. If she had thought to attack him them, he wouldn't have been able to get away. Although, that would hurt her, a lot more than it would hurt him. Simon felt fury bubble up within his chest and he opened his mouth to speak, when she snorted and tried to hide the resentment in her glowing green eyes.

"Adults?" she scoffed, her arms flailing in irritation. "You're younger than me! You won't even be able to go to bars. It sucks to be eternally damned."

Simon cocked an eyebrow and stared at her. He was surprised to see she had loosened up and didn't seem to be in fight mode anymore. "I was just thinking I could use a nice stiff drink."

"Me too." she smiled. She had a pretty smile; it really lit up her face. Gwendolyn wrinkled her nose and pursed her lips.

"Stop staring. It'll make it harder for me to kill you."

"You think I killed your family. I would never kill anyone. I will _never_ kill anyone." Simon hoped the fates were listening to him, because once he set his mind to something, it was almost impossible to stop him. And since it meant killing his friend, Simon had no room for compromise.

"Not you in particular," she rolled her eyes. "Your kind is responsible."

"I'm not like other vampires." Simon said softly. She snorted again. "Are you coming on to me?"

"What?" Simon cried, "No way!"

"Good." she laughed. It was short; like a bark. And like a dog, it could be menacing. "Because, you're cute and all, but I'm just not that into you, Okay?"

"Sure." Simon was surprised. Not that this girl, Gwendolyn, didn't find him hotter than coals, but that she could be so casual about it, especially after accusing him of murder.

"So, since you seem kind of decent," she said bluntly. "I'll make this quick. A swing to the neck or a jab to the heart?"

"Neither."

"Not that you have a choice." Gwendolyn mocked.

"I do, actually," Simon raised a hand and swept his floppy fringe out of his eyes. She leaned forward and stared at it, picking up her blade from the ground in the same quick, fluid motion. "What am I meant to be staring at here? Your impossibly long eyelashes. Most girls must envy you."

"And you're not most girls?"

Gwendolyn flicked a pebble from the ground with the tip of her blade, threw it into the air, and with speed and precision, sliced it into two equal pieces, which disappeared into the pavement like a wisp of smoke.

"I think we've established that." she grinned, her lips curving crookedly.

"Right," Simon sighed. "Well, this is the Mark of Cain." Simon thought that would explain it, but she stared at him in bewilderment.

"And?" She arched an eyebrow, and the moonlight caught the scar that puckered on her forehead. She didn't cover it up, like most people would. It was a war wound; a reminder of a past battle she would never allow herself to forget.

"And," Simon replied in the same intonation Gwendolyn had used. "It means that anything that you do to me, you get back seven-fold. Do you understand?"

"Of course I do," she laughed. "I have a more than basic comprehension of English, you know. Especially considering it is my first language." Then her face darkened, "So I can't kill you."

"Not unless you have an actual death wish, no."

"Great." Gwendolyn folded her blade away and tucked it into her pocket, It never occurred to Simon before --since it had been _this _close to slicing open his face-- but it was an unusual Seraph blade. It was more robust and squat than the ones Jace, Isabelle and Alec usually carried. It also had a thick, leather bound handle.

"So, it sucks you can't kill me."

Gwendolyn burst into hysterics and leaned against the wall of the nearest alleyway, regaining some breath. "That was," she chocked on her laughter, "unexpected. Why would you say that?"

"It's not like I want to die, but you seemed pretty keen on slicing my head of. I just wondered why?"

She straightened up a little. "Revenge is a dish best served cold. Nothing's colder than a Vampire."

"But why?"

"My mom was killed 8 months ago. She was hunting down some vampires, and they sprang out of an alleyway and ambushed her. She never saw it coming."

Gwen stared up at the night's sky, the moon beams bouncing off her face; lighting up the darkness that had formed from a life of hardship.

"She got in a few good kills, and she thought it was all over. Until this one guy. He came out of nowhere and broke her neck."

"How did you find out?" Simon breathed, a lump forming in his throat.

"Because, I was there." she stumbled over the word as a stray tear leaked down her cheek. Gwendolyn scrunched up her face to try and stop any more tears from forming. She would not allow herself to feel weak. Simon realised it was not for his sake; it was for her own. She thought of vulnerability as a weakness, and would not allow herself to be weak, even when she hurt inside.

Especially when she hurt inside.

"Oh my G--" Simon choked on the word. Gwendolyn clocked her head his way, and quickly stared ahead once more. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be." she said sadly. "You weren't there. You couldn't help."

"So," she continued, "I saw her neck snap. I saw the light leave her eyes. And I snapped. That was my first real kill. For two months after that, I tried to find my father, to have some semblance of family. But that was a dead end, I think. I find it really hard to remember what happened." she frowned in consternation, but carried on. "So, after I realised that I was all alone in this word, I decided to make something out of my life. I was born a hunter, I was raised a hunter. It was the obvious port of call."

"Obviously."

"So," Gwendolyn pushed herself off the wall. "I can't kill you anymore."

"Nope." Simon agreed.

"And against my better judgement," she smiled, edging forward. "I find myself drawn to you."

Simon gulped.

"Ha," she laughed. "Your face is worth a thousand bucks!"

"I've heard it's worth a million." Simon quipped.

"Yes, to some people. But as we have already established, I don't find you remotely attractive."

"Obviously." Simon said again. Though he hated that being pointed out, he did enjoy the fact that he had a girl he could talk to with no strings attached.

"I want in."

"In what?"

"You're starting a war? I want in."

"It's not a war," Simon began, but Gwendolyn interjected. "Whatever, I just need something to distract myself."

Simon was about to argue, but decided otherwise. If the shoe was on the other foot, he would want someone to do it for him. And hopefully this would help his karma brownie points."

"All right." he resigned. Gwen grinned and threw her arms around Simon, pulling him into an embrace.

They walked around the corner, making their way to the Institute. And a weird feeling stuck Simon. And he just had to ask. "Was your mom a Shadowhunter?"

"No," she replied, unperturbed, skipping along the street. "She was a quarter demon, or something. She was able to see through the mist, but she had no discernable power to speak of."

"So, what about your dad?"

"I never met him, but he left me this blade and a necklace before he disappeared. I'm kind of blank on the details. It's like……" she frowned. "It's like I'm missing something that I just can't piece together. Like a puzzle with some pieces missing."

"Oh," Simon didn't know what to say. "That's weird."

"Tell me about it."

"You have a necklace though?"

"Yeah, Mom said he gave it to me when I was a baby. It's a locket."

"Coll. Anything in it."

"No."

Simon felt a knot tighten in hi chest. He waited for the blow.

"But, there was an engraving on the back."

"Of?"

"Here." she pulled out her locket and Simon fingered the delicate silver metal between his long fingers, and if he had blood flowing though his veins, it would have ran cold.

It was a raven with an S on its back.

Starkweather.

Gwendolyn was Hodges' daughter.


	13. Blood Ties

_A/N: Simon's point of view is in italics. Gwen Stark is the main protagonist of this chapter. Let me know what you think of it, and of her. _

_Please read and review. I could really use some help and constructive criticism, as well as encouragement. Thanks to everyone who reviewed so far. You guys rock my hypothetical socks!_

"Are you okay?" Gwendolyn asked Simon, cocking an eyebrow in amusement. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

Close enough. _Simon thought, but he let the thought slip from his mind. He was caught in a catch-22. He had to tell her, it was the right thing to do. She deserved to know who her family was. She needed to know she had no one left. _

_However, Simon also knew that telling her would result in her gravely injuring herself while in the process of injuring him. Decisions, decisions. _

_Despite his better judgement, and the fact that she had initially tried to kill him, Simon liked Gwen. She was funny, smart and could kick just about anyone's ass of she needed to. _

_Well, Maybe not Isabelle's. But it would be a close tie. _

"Simon?" Gwen asked. Worried for his sanity, she decided that she had no other option. With all the strength she could muster, she slapped him across the face. She fell back against the cold, hard pavement, clutching her face between her hands. She bit her lip to stop herself from crying out in agony as an all-consuming pain shot through her, like nothing she had ever experienced. Her face was an inferno, and she could feel the tender muscles in her cheek contract in agony. Blood swelled up in her mouth. She had torn her cheek open with her left incisor. The bitter, metallic taste of blood coated the surface of her tongue, and Gwendolyn wrinkled her nose in distaste.

But she knew it had to be done, and despite her throbbing face, she was happy it worked. Simon had finally snapped out of his daze. His eyes flickered to where she lay on the concrete, and in an instant he was crouched at her side, offering his hand to her.

"Gwen, are you okay?" His genuine worry intrigued her, but it also put her on edge. She worked alone, and never needed anyone. Not since…….

_Gwendolyn scrambled up from the pavement and shoved his hand away. She spat blood onto the ground and gave Simon a steely eyed glare. "Well," she said "That'll leave a mark."_

_Simon's throat closed up and hunger welled inside him. It was like a Lion had been sleeping in his chest, and suddenly it had sprang to life. Every cell in his body responded to the scent as it wafted through the cool night's air and tickled his nostrils. They twitched in ecstasy, wholly captivated by the scent. _

"_Simon?" Gwendolyn's voice took on a sharp edge. "Snap out of it!"_

_Simon stood in a cat-like crouch, ready to lunge. A hiss escaped from his throat, feral and savage. _

"_Simon!" She cried, pulling her blade out of her belt with practised stealth. He threw himself at her, craving her sweet, sweet blood. It was like a drug; like nothing he had ever experienced before. It was the most potent perfume he could imagine. He had to have it. _

_Gwendolyn used the handle of her blade and swiped it past his ear, before switching the blade in her hand and slashing it toward his face, she knew she couldn't hurt him, but she needed time to think, and she always thought best under pressure. _

_Simon bared his teeth and thrust himself toward her again. Subconsciously, he could feel a small part of him screaming for him to stop, but the animal instinct was too strong to be denied_.

Gwendolyn backed into the alleyway, pulling garbage cans and wooden crates down as she ran. Anything that could buy her even a second was invaluable. She glanced over her shoulder as she ran and say him leap with animal agility over every obstacle in his way. She could see it in his eyes; the hunger. She had seen it too many times to mistake. God damn her genes! Her mother had warned her years ago about this, and it had slipped her mind in all the chaos of the past couple of months.

Her Mom was part demon. It came from her grandmother's side. Her great-great grandfather was a warlock. He had fallen in love with a mortal and they had a child. It was rare that such a union would create a daughter, or that it would create anything at all. There were certain perks associated with being one quarter demon. For one, her feet were silent as she hit the floor; sometimes, she could even levitate an inch or two off the ground, or produce fire in her hands with a snap of her fingertips. This -- combined with whatever talents her Dad had given her through her Shadowhunter side-- had made her the ultimate hunter.

And now she was being hunted.

Her blood was the ultimate drug to vampires. There was nothing like it. Thanks to her Shadowhunter genes mixing with her demon ones, there had to be a consequence; in this case, a deadly one.

Sometimes, Life can be such a be-atch!

Simon continued to chase her, grunting and growling and thirsting after her sweet, sweet blood.

"Simon!" She screamed, while trying to control her breathing as she ran as fast as her legs could carry her. Thank god she did cardio. "Snap out of it!"

Gwen rounded the nearest corner, throwing another glance over her shoulder to check where he was. And then she felt a crushing pain against her chest. Her hand caught in the grooves of the chain-link fence in front of her. It was seven foot high, and was enclosed by a huge, red brick wall. She felt claustrophobic, and her chest tightened at the thought.

Then she heard the heavy breathing and the rabid hiss from the entryway to the alley.

And she knew she was trapped.


	14. Trapped

Simon watched her like a predator observes their prey; with hunger and intrigue, roiled into a torrent of sheer blood lust. Simon had never wanted anything so badly in his life. His throat closed from the magnitude of his hunger, which could only be sated by the taste of the sweet nectar coursing through her veins.

He could hear it; the blood coursing through her body. Every heart beat pounding against her chest like the beat of an African drum; rapid and powerful, frantic and irregular. The blood rushed through her veins as adrenaline pulsed around her body. She was trapped, and she knew it.

And Simon was about to have a nice little snack.

"Simon," Gwendolyn kept her voice steady and showed no fear on her features. Her jaw was clenched and taut, like the perfect poker-face. But her eyes gave her away every time. They were swimming in terror, anguish and roamed for an escape route; anyway to free herself.

There was nothing. And she knew it.

"Simon," she said again, her voice a little shaky as she watched him take a few small, torturously drawn out steps towards her. She backed against the fence and held the links between her slender fingers, clinging to them like her life depended on it. "Simon, Please." Simon bowed his head and watched a rat scurry by his feet. It was the size of a terrier and squealed in a high-pitched drone, before scurrying behind a dumpster. Gwendolyn watched it pass her, and envy shadowed her features. Simon would have laughed if he wasn't so famished. For a second, the hunger disappeared and he was able to se her through a different perspective. She was scared, and alone, and about to die.

Simon cocked his head and watched Gwendolyn clinically and carefully. Evert infinitesimal movement she made was like an alarm sounding in his head.

When her lip quivered, Simon felt a twinge of guilt.

When her hand shook, Simon wondered what he was doing.

When her eyes met his, he felt the animal lust take hold once more.

"Please," All her resolve was gone, and a solitary tear rolled down her cheek.

"Mom always told me not to play with my food." Simon said simply. His voice was calm and controlled. It was a whole lot more menacing than if he had snarled. Gwendolyn felt a tremble trickle down her spine, and she shuddered under his watchful gaze.

Gwendolyn shut her eyes tight to fight the tears. She would not let him have the satisfaction of beating her. Her hand gripped the handle of her blade, but she knew she would not be able to attack him. It would only lead to her death. It was a damned-if-you-do-damned-if-you-don't-situation. An image flooded her vision. It was her mother's final minutes. How strong and brave and heroic she seemed. And it all ended in an instant. Her mother would never have backed down like a helpless little mouse. She would battle till the end.

_And you know what they say_, Gwen thought, _the apple doesn't fall far from the tree_.

She would not go down without a fight; she would die with honour. Just like her mother.

Gwen pushed herself off the chain link fence and lunged at Simon, hoping her stealth and inhuman quickness may catch him off guard. It didn't. Her blade went soaring through the air, scraping off the ground and causing a flow of sparks to explode around her ankles. She lifted the blade quickly and listened for a sound. Any sound, to let her know where he was.

"Boo," he whispered, his lips millimetres from her ear.

She didn't even have time to think when Simon's hand grabbed her, from behind.

Gwen shut her eyes tightly and let out one final breath.

_I love you, Mom. She thought before his lips came crashing toward her skin._

_His Fangs plunged into her neck, her blood gushing into his mouth. _

_And she crumpled beneath him_


	15. Living

"_What the--" Simon chocked and spluttered. He released Gwendolyn's limp body and doubled over, retching. _

_Gwendolyn's body twitched on the ground and she gasped, clutching her hand against her chest and she dry-heaved. Simon finally stopped convulsing and stared at her, agape. _

"_It serves you right!" Gwendolyn coughed, stretching out on the pavement and staring up at the stars twinkling in the sky. _

"_What…..What happened?" Simon was dumbfounded. He felt revolted and disusted with himself; he had attacked her. He had sucked the blood from her neck and had enjoyed it immensely. Well, for the first few seconds, and then his taste buds kicked in._

_Gwendolyn heaved a heavy digh from the ground. She lay flat on her back and began tracing the patterns of stars with her fingers, her eyes wide in wonder. _

"_What was that?" Simon asked, while self-consciously fidgeting against the red brick wall he leaned against. Gwendolyn turned her head to the right, her hair splayed against the ground and surrounding her like a halo. _

"_A miracle." she said, amusement colouring her face. _

"_Could you elaborate a little?" she cocked her eyebrow at Simon, and immediately he felt a wave of grief and guilt wash over him. _

"_Gwendolyn," Simon began, but she interjected. _

"_Gwen," she smiled crookedly. "I think you can call me that by now. You drank my blood, for God's sake. It doesn't get much more personal than that, does it?"_

_Simon didn't know how to take that. "Gwen, I'm so sorry. I couldn't…I couldn't control myself around you."_

"_You know, Guys tell me that all the time." She snorted, and Simon felt his spirits lighten, if only for an instant. _

"_Honestly, I don't know what came over me…." _

"_I do," she sighed. "It was bloodlust. I've seen it before. You must not have fed in a while. It really _got to you."

"But why?" Simon asked in astonishment.

"It's my fantastic personalty, you just can't get enough." she winked.

"I highly doubt that." Simon quipped, and she grinned wickedly. Simon was a bit concerned by her _lack_ of concern.

"You know, if someone had just tried to kill me, I wouldn't be joking around with them, I'd be…."

"Backing the fudge away?" she laughed, but Simon said nothing. Gwen rolled her eyes and said "I tried to kill you, you tried to kill me; I think we're pretty much even, don't you?"

Simon felt a bit uncomfortable about it, but he agreed. "So…."

"Okay, you want answers." she hopped up from the ground, reluctantly, and brushed the dirt off her dark jeans. Simon stayed silent, and she took this for her answer.

"You already know my Mom was part Demon. That, combined with Dad being a Shadowhunter, has led to some pretty weird chemical imbalances. My blood is potent."

"You can say that again." Simon chocked on his words as she silenced him with a glance. Guilt roiled through Simon again as he recalled his earlier debate about whether or not to tell Gwen he knew her father. And that he had watched him die before his eyes. Of course, he was pretty scatter brained at the moment, thanks to, you know, the apocalypse coming down on around his ears.

Which reminded him….

"Crap, Maia…." he breathed.

"What?" Gwen asked, a little taken aback by the sudden outburst.

"Sorry," Simon mutterd, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "Go ahead, I'm all ears."

"I noticed." she murmured. Simon pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes at her. Gwen bit her lip. "Anyway" she drawled, "It sends vampires crazy. It's like……..me and fudge brownies. I just can't get enough. My mom told me all of this when I was younger, so it's all pretty hazy."

"But why did I feel like I was in heaven one minute, and choking on hell the next?"

Gwen smiled. "I have no idea, but I'm so glad you did!"

"You know, so am I." he smiled softy, and watched her eyes light up her face.

"Good. Well, anyway, I assume it's some kind of defense mechanism. Thanks to my genes, I' kind of like the ultimate hunter."

"Woah, don't let Jace hear that."

"Who's Jace?"

"You'll find out soon enough." Simon sighed, pulling out his cell phone and dialing Jaces' cell.

After five rings, Jace picked up.

"What?" he snapped, and Simon couldn't help but fight the urge to laugh, some things never change.

"Jace, it's…"

"Simon," he could practically hear Jace roll his eyes through the phone. "Your name is on the display."

"Oh," Simon wanted to smack himself. "Right. I need your help."

"Okay, soft, romantic lightning will even make your foetus-esque face look hot. Obviously, you don't have my fantastic bone structure. "

"Or your gigantic ego." Simon snapped. "I am not calling for girl advice."

"You definitely need it." Gwen quipped, moving beside Simon. Simon heard Jace laugh heartily through the phone.

"Who's that?"

"It doesn't matter." Simon pushed on. "Look, I need you to distract Clary for the next two days, have you got that?"

"Easily done." Jace said. Simon heard a clattering and a swiping noise in the background. He heard Jace's breath become laboured as he panted. "Are you training?" Simon asked incredulously.

"Yup." Jace said simply. He sniggered, and Simon assumed his attacker missed. "Nice try Iz."

"Look, just do this, okay?"

"Why are you so hell bent on this?" Jace asked. He was genuinely curious.

"It doesn't matter."

"It does." Jace said sharply. "I can hear it in your voice. By the angel, Simon, if you don't tell me…"

"It's a matter of life and death, okay."

"No," Jace said "It's not okay."

"Meet me at the Institute tomorrow at two. And bring Alec and Izzy. I need their help. Maia is getting some wolves together. I'll explain then."

"Explain what?" Jace asked, before Simon snapped his phone shut.

"Well," Gwen snorted. "That was abrupt."

"It had to be." Simon said shortly. Simon checked the time. "I better go."

"Yeah, me too." Gwen sighed. She catered off through the alley.

"Where are you going?" Simon asked.

"I'm going home." she said, like it was the obvious answer.

"Which is where?"

"Wherever I lay my hat." she replied and disappeared into the night.

"Hey!" Simon called out, stalking though the street and searching for her. There was neither sight nor sound of the girl. Simon pulled on his hair and screamed in frustration, his silence breaking though the night.

"What?" Gwen asked from behind him. Starled, Simon leaped back and absailed up the wall.

"Where did you go?" Simon asked.

"My hideaway."

"Which is?"

Gwen rolled her eyes. Simon follwed her for about two minutes, before she rounded the next alley and stood before a large, wooden crate.

"You live in a box?"

She rolled her eyes. "No." she shoved the box away with the heel of her shoe and reveled a small hollow in the wall. Simon looked up and saw the sign for a retail store.

"Where are you going?" Simon asked incredulously as she sqauteed down and shimmied through the tinny hole.

Gwen looked up briefly, a smile playing on her lips. "Household department. 4th floor, isle 3."

Simon watched her disappear, before her voice echoed rhough the crevice. "Are you coming or not?"

Simon stood there for a moment, stunned and deliberating. Should he?

"Well?" she called, her voice growing fainter.

Curiosity won out and Simon crawled after her.

He had two days left before the Dark Age; He may as well enjoy himself.


	16. Bedrock

Simon could see the light at the end of the tunnel.

And the fluorescent flickering was like daggers to his eyes.

Gwen crawled along the hollow, military style, with Simon in hot pursuit. She grasped at the edges of the burrow, and pulled herself out without haste. She shook her head like a dog and loosened the dirt that had fallen from the ceiling from the strands. They flew like dark snowflakes from her hair.

Simon pulled himself out shortly afterward, and stared in confusion.

"Where are we?"

"We're in the basement." she smiled at his expression. "Wait till you get upstairs. Now, that's magical."

"Gwen," Simon brushed the dirt off his jeans in one quick swoop. "Not that I don't appreciate your attempt to distract me…."

"I wasn't trying to distract you." she laughed. "Vampires are easily distracted. The fact that you're going to be an adolescent boy for the rest of eternity probably won't help matters."

"Shut up." Simon mumbled.

"Wow, good comeback." Gwen rolled her eyes and manoeuvred her way past a crate. Simon followed her carefully. She leaned against the doorway at the entrance to the basement. It was cocked open, and a slant of light billowed through the crack.

"Where are we going?" Simon asked.

"You know? For a vampire, you're hearing really sucks. I already told you, the 4th floor. It's my home du jour."

"What?"

"Okay, keep as silent as possible. And when I say stop, stop. All right?"

"What…."

"All right?!"

"All right." he agreed. They ambled down the hall. Gwen occasionally used her seraph blade to check reflections around corners, but for the most part, they were Scott free.

"So," Simon whispered, paranoid that they would be caught. "How did this become your new home?"

"Well," Gwen skipped a step and then pirouetted on spot. Simon thought it was a bit uncharacteristic, but then again, he had only known her a maximum of three hours. "After Mom died, I stayed in our apartment for a while, while I searched for Dad…"

Simon felt his chest tighten, and Gwen's face contorted in unease. "What was that?"

"No idea." Simon silently hated himself. "Go on."

"So after two months, I….." her eyes closed and her expression grew dazed, as if she hit a wall; or a mental block. "I'm not really sure. I just remember waking up. Weird."

"Definitely weird." Simon knew it killed her to not know the answer. He could see it in her eyes.

"Anyway," she shook her head to sweep the cobweb from her mind. "When I came back to the apartment after I stopped searching, all the windows were boarded up, and there were barricades across the door. Of course, I crawled through a crack in the door and stayed there for a week or so, until I decided it was time to move on to pastures new."

"But why did you stop searching for your Dad?" Simon decided he had to tell her, but he decided to do it like you boil a lobster: place it in cold water and then gently turn on the heat. Simon was just cranking up the dial to the big finale.

"I……I'm not sure." she frowned. "I just……Wait." she hissed like a venomous cobra. Simon flinched at the inflection. His ear cocked at the sound of footfall. Someone was coming.

"Crap." Gwen breathed, running a hand through her hair. It got caught in a tangle, and she yanked it out, tearing out a sizeable chunk of her glossy black hair.

"Crap." she yelled. Simon could practically hear the gears grinding in her mind, and decided to take action. Quicker than lightning, he wrapped an arm around Gwen's waist, wrapped a hand around her mouth, and with what little room he had left, he crawled up the wall by the tips of his fingers, bringing her along for the ride.

The security guard whistled and flipped his flashlight clumsily in his hand, dropping it with a bang on the linoleum floor. He bent over to pick it up. Simon wished that the man would invest in a good belt. He shut his eyes, and thought of happier things.

Isabelle sprang to mind.

A smile crept across his lips, and when he opened his eyes, escaping from his vision of dark, dark eyes that consumed his thoughts.

And he instantly recoiled as a Gwen licked the palm of his hand and bit his thumb.

"Eugh!" Simon's grip loosened and Gwen fell through the air, landing nimbly on the tips of her toes.

"A little warning would have been nice," she fumed, glaring at him venomously.

"You licked me?"

"Yeah."

"You _bit _me?!"

"Again, yes." she scoffed. "Now, come on."

"You're sick, do you know that? Who _bites _a vampire?"

"Only the cool kids."

After ten minutes, and a few close calls, they arrived on the fourth floor. It was so eerie and quiet, compared to the hustle and bustle of day time shopping. Simon turned on the spot, gazing in awe at the deserted tiled floors.

"Mi casa, et su casa." Gwen drawled, floating towards a bed in the household department and landing on it with an air thud. She sighed contentedly, rolling around in the sheets; gathering them within her fists and clutching them to her face.

"You're quiet resourceful, aren't you?" Simon smiled at her. It was so different to the fierce intensity that he had seen before. She looked like the kid she was. Nothing more or less.

"You have to be." she flopped down on the sheets and lay still. "I had nowhere to go. I guess I'm all alone. And after spending two weeks on the streets, and getting pushed around and propositioned, I wasn't going to take any more. That's when I found my way into the big stores. They have hundreds of beds they aren't using, so I use them for them. I think it's a fair deal, don't you?"

"I guess so." Simon flopped down beside her and stared up at the ceiling.

"I don't know what it is," she said, "but I feel like I trust you."

"You know what?" Simon said. "So do I."

"God, we're crazy."

"Maybe. But normal is relative."

"And apparently," Gwen smiled "my relatives aren't normal."

Simon rolled his eyes. "Right." he flipped over and was face to face with her. He looked into her eyes, and saw her staring back; an odd expression on her face.

"What?" he asked.

"Just let me try something." slowly, she closed the gap and softly pressed her lips against his. Simon was in shock, and when she pulled away, she laughed at his expression.

"What was that for?" he asked, dumbfounded.

"Just had to check if there was anything there." Gwen said simply.

"And?"

Gwen frowned. "No, it's not happening. You're cute and all, but not my cup of tea. Besides, it kind of felt like I was kissing my brother."

Simon stifled a laugh. Gwen cocked her eyebrow. "What?"

"Nothing." he smirked.

"What?!" She couldn't help but join his laughter.

"It's just; I was thinking the same thing."

_Well_, Simon thought, _that's not entirely true._

He had thought that it was like being with the wrong person.

But more importantly, one thought sprang to mind.

She just isn't Isabelle.

And he knew then he was in trouble.

He had fallen into hell this morning.

He never thought he'd be falling in love the same day.


	17. Working Girls

Simon snapped out of his daze, thanks to Gwen, who was snoring like a jackhammer beside him. Simon gently nudged her, and she jerked awake with a start. She instantly pulled her blade from the belt of her jeans and leaped from the bed, landing in an attack crouch. Her back was arched and her hands were quick and ready to attack.

Gwen blinked several times, confused, while she watched Simon eye her from the bed, biting his bottom lip to stifle a laugh. She stood up carefully and popped her blade back into her waistband. She flipped her fringe in front of her eyes, and Simon caught a hint of a blush creep across the apples of her cheeks.

Simon sniggered, and applauded her sarcastically. "I'd give you an 8 or a 9 for that. The start was a bit shaky, but you really did stick the landing."

"Shut up," she growled, pulling the sleep from her eyes and stifling a yawn.

"Wow, good comeback." Simon relished echoing her earlier sentiment.

"Again," she stressed, "Shut up."

"Fine," Simon laughed, sliding off the bed and smoothing out the crumpled sheets. "You snore, by the way."

"Do not." she grumbled, shaking her hair out and fingering the loose strands to get rid of that "I've just been electrocuted" look.

"Like a pneumatic drill."

Gwen flipped him off. "What time is it?" she said groggily, tears streaming from the corners of her eyes. She rubbed them away quickly, before slapping herself across the face to wake up.

"It's….um…." Simon held his cell phone in his hands and stared at it, sure that it must be malfunctioning. There were six missed calls, three voice mails, two texts…

"And a partridge in a pear tree." He mumbled.

"Huh?" Gwen mumbled.

"Sorry, it's four thirty."

"Right," Gwen yawned. "I better get changed."

"What?" Simon watched as Gwen hopped over the freshly made bed, in a move most hurdlers would envy, and grabbed a chair from the corner of the room. She picked it up and placed it on top of a sturdy table, before climbing up to the window.

"What are you doing?" Simon watched as Gwen twisted the screws in the air conditioning vent. When the last screw fell, she grabbed the white, slatted square in her hands and threw it on the desk. Gwen stood on her tip-toes and reached inside the vent. She rumbled around for a minute or two, her tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth, before pulling out a black backpack. She smiled, shouldered the bag and jumped from the desk. She put everything back where it belonged before returning to Simon, who was stating in awe.

"You really _are_ resourceful, aren't you?"

"Maybe." she smiled. "Now, no peeking."

"Why would I…?" Simon was cut off as Gwen ripped her top off and stood half-naked before him.

"Crap." Simon mumbled, before quickly turning around and shutting his eyes tight.

Two minutes later, she called "You can look now."

Simon turned around, and was surprised to see her in a pair of white skinny jeans, a long-sleeved blue sweater and a grey, fitted blazer.

"That was quick. You look…." he said, stumbling for the right word. "Different." he finally decided.

She rolled her eyes. "I know this good pancake joint, if you want to join me?"

"All right." Simon said. "But first, I have to deal with this."

Simon followed the list of missed calls: four from his mother and two from Eric asking where the hell he was; three voicemails from his Mom, crying, asking him to come home; and three very angry texts from her that made Simon not want to go home under penalty of death. Simon felt a wave of guilt roll over him, which was quickly squashed when his phone came to life in his hands.

"Clary?"

"Simon!" She let out a sigh of relief, although it was marred by exhaustion, as she slurred her words together. "You're okay."

"Of course, why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, your mom is going crazy. She just called me, in floods of tears, asking if I had seen you. She's already called the cops Simon. What the f…"

"Look, it's a long story. Can you call her and tell her I'm okay?"

"Why can't you do it?" Simon could her anger bubbling up, and knew this was the best possible thing. The angrier she was, the less likely she would be to see him, and then he wouldn't be able to kill her. It's a win-win situation.

"I'm busy." he said. Gwen cocked an eyebrow at him. He shook his head in response, but felt the butterflies beat in his stomach.

"Fine," Clary huffed. "But go home, Simon. She's really worried about you. We all are."

"Who's 'we'?"

"Me, your mom, Eric, Izzy…"

"Iz is worried?" The butterflies turned into an earthquake, and he swallowed the feeling and buried it down deep inside. _I don't love her_; he decided firmly, _I can't. I don't even know her. I mean, sure, we hang out a lot, and I love spending time with her….and she's really smart and funny, and cute….._

"Oh Crap!" He murmured.

"What?" Clary asked.

"Nothing." he backtracked. "See you around, Clary."

"When? I mean, we said we'd go for coffee tomorrow….well, today, technically. So, what time do you want to meet up?"

"Actually, I'm kind of busy today. Rain-check?"

Simon heard her heave a frustrated sigh. "You know what? Call me when you sort out your priorities, Simon, I'll see you around."

"Right." Simon huffed. Before she hung up, Simon heard Clary say "he's all right."

Guilt is such a horrible emotion. It just beats back and forth in your stomach, like the ebb and flow of a wave beating against the seashore. With every passing moment, the guilt crashed down on him, and it grew more ferocious and fierce; consuming him entirely.

But that's just how the cookie crumbles.

And it's better guilt over that than over killing someone he loves.

"Are you Okay?" Gwen asked, leaving a hand on his arm and watching him with concern.

"I will be. Just give me three days."

Or should that be two.

* * *

"Where are you taking me?" Simon asked. They rounded another corner, and Gwen repeatedly went out of her way to step in the puddles that formed from the newly fallen rain. The rain should have soaked through the canvas of her high-tops, but they seemed to be perfectly dry; whereas Simon's were saturated. He shook his leg and fat droplets fell around his shoes, staining his jeans with water marks,

"Pancakes." she said again, a smile playing across her face as she watched the water dribble down his jeans.

That was when Simon noticed that her feet weren't actually touching the ground.

"That's unfair." he moaned. "No wonder you're so quiet. You're flying."

"Both metaphorically and literally." She answered, floating over another puddle.

"So that's why I didn't hear you last night?"

"Got it in one. Wow, I tried to kill you last night." she pursed her lips.

"And I almost succeeded in killing you." he said soberly.

"Forget it. It's water under the bridge. At least now we can be friends."

"We're already friends." he smiled.

They continued on in silence till Gwen suddenly pulled to a halt.

"Here we go. Come on in."

She pushed open the door, and Simon's nostrils were instantly filled with the sweet scent of maple syrup, and the sound of sizzling pancakes on the griddle.

"Brilliant, isn't it?" Gwen smiled, before strolling up to the counter, where a short, stocky woman with a white puff of hair stood pouring coffee for cops and practically comatose clients.

"Gwen!" Her smile lit up her whole face, and she reminded Simon of his Grandma in Flushing Meadows, and he instantly warmed to her.

"Hey Delia," Gwen smiled.

"Honey," Delia frowned. "You aren't on till seven. What are you doing up so early?"

"I thought I could start work early, and maybe leave around twelve?" Gwen bit her lip and fluttered her eyelashes innocently. She needn't have bothered, it was clear to Simon that Delia loved Gwen like a granddaughter, and would give her whatever she wanted.

"O' course, honey. But why?"

"Del, this is my friend Simon." Gwen said, running over to Simon and pulling him to the counter. Simon was kind of blind sighted, but he offered a simpering smile for the woman. She pursed her lips, grabbed two cups and filled them with freshly brewed coffee, a knowing look on her face.

"A friend, huh?"

"But of course," Gwen laughed. "I have taste, thank you very much."

"I should be insulted," Simon said, "But I'll choose to ignore that."

"Good choice," Delia said, rolling her eyes at Gwen. "It's a shame. He's a cutie."

"Yeah, Well, I'm looking for a hottie, D."

Delia wiped her hands on her luminescent pink, frilly apron. "There's always my Grandson, Derek. I think you would be a match made in heaven."

"I don't think so, Delia."

"Why not, Gwen?"

"Because, he's twelve." Gwen laughed.

"He just turned thirteen."

"He may as well be twelve, for all the difference it makes. Thanks for the coffee, D."

"No problem, dear. Anything for my best girl. And, honestly, I think you're too good for Derek. I caught him eating paste last week."

"Eww," Gwen carefully sipped the boiling hot broth and her face instantly relaxed. Simon sat there silently, watching the banter between the two of them.

"I worry about that boy." Delia shook her head, and then turned to Simon. "So, what's your story, son?"

"I don't have a story." he said simply, tentatively taking a sip of his coffee. It was great. Not as good as blood, but good for coffee.

"'Course you do!" Delia scoffed. "Everyone has a story. See that guy over there?" she pointed to a man who cradled a bag to his chest and gently rocked back and forth while he ate his pancakes. "His wife kicked him out."

"Really? Why?" Gwen asked. Simon narrowed his eyes at her, but she shoved him and waited for Delia to answer. "He had an affair with his secretary,"

"Really?"

"No," Delia said. "But his wife thinks he did. She's paranoid, and she's been watching too many stories. Last week she thought he slept with Pamela Anderson, because he was staring at a picture of her on the newsstand. Some people are just paranoid. Poor guy. He's been here, every morning, for the last three days."

"Oh, that's awful."

"Yep," Delia made a popping sound with her lips. "Unlike this guy," she jerked her thumb at another man who looked worse for wear. "He actually did have an affair with his secretary."

"Whoops." Gwen pursed her lips.

"How do you know these things? " Simon asked.

"Working in a café, you pick up a few things." she said. It seemed like a reasonable answer, but Simon felt like she was brushing him off.

She turned to Gwen. "Do you want breakfast before your shift?"

"That would be great." Gwen smiled. Soon after, Delia carried a gigantic plate of pancakes to Gwen, who wolfed them down like she hadn't eaten in a week.

After she finished, Gwen sat rubbing her swelled stomach. "I better get to work. It's starting to pick up." she hopped over the counter and disappeared into the back, before she returned, wearing a blue frilly apron. Simon choked on a laugh. She stared at him, eyes blazing, while grabbing a coffee pot to refill his cup. Simon averted his eyes and stared at the swirling black contents of his cup.

"It's on the house," she said "as long as you're nice."

"I better grab my wallet then." Simon smirked. Gwen shook her head and went to work she moved quickly and elegantly between the tables, offering cheery smiles, and cheerier banter to anyone who needed it. They all adored her, and Gwen basked in the warmth of their welcoming smiles as she approached their tables. Of course, the large tips helped. But, Simon couldn't help but think that, with all the work she did, she deserved them.

After a while, she stopped at the counter and leaned against it, standing beside Simon's stool. "The sun's coming up. We have a room in the back. There's a basement. You can hide there till its dark."

"I'm good." he said, slicing up some pancakes that Delia had brought him, saying he was "far to skinny for his own good". She really was like his Grandma.

"Don't be stupid." Gwen's flicked her hair over her shoulder and watched him intensely, looking for the joke. "You'll burn up. Trust me, I've seen it. I've even made it happen a couple of times."

Despite the nausea he felt at the thought of Gwen watching a vampire inferno, he still ate his pancakes. He needed to feed, and even if it wasn't his first preference, it was pretty damn good. He wouldn't have to eat for another week after this.

"I won't burn up. I'm a special case. I never….." a man passed by the counter, and Simon quickly looked for an analogy. "Get sunburned."

Gwen nearly dropped the coffee pot in shock, but her cat-like reflexes kicked in, and it merely jiggled in her hands.

"You don't….?"

"Nope."

"That's….."

"Weird?" he offered.

"I was going to say 'interesting', but let's use your word." the shock wore off her face, and a grin replaced it. "You're full of surprises, Simon….."

"Lewis," he said. "Simon Lewis." Simon wasn't sure, but he thought he saw the new guy's ear cock at his name, but he decided to ignore it.

"Gwen Stark." Gwen said, sitting down on the edge of the stool beside him, facing outwards.

Simon left his cup down on the table. "I never would have thought of you as a working girl?"

Gwen burst out laughing, and Simon immediately backtracked. "I meant someone who works, not…"

"I got it." she laughed. "I have to make money somehow. For food, clothes, shoes and things of that nature. I may sneak around, but I leave a little donation for their kindness."

"That's cool."

"Delia thought me well. She took me on after….." her face darkened. "After."

"Oh," Simon knew to drop it, and changed the subject. "So you work here during the day."

"During the summer, yeah. Waitress by day, Huntress by night. In September, I go to school."

"You do?"

"Of course," she scoffed. "Strange as it may seem, I actually like school. I like to read."

"You like to read books?"

"Yeah, like books." she smiled. "It drove my mom crazy. My room would be filled with mounds and mounds of books. There would hardly be room for me to sleep."

"You get that from your Dad."

"I guess so." she smiled, beginning to walk away, but Simon held on to her wrist.

"No, I mean…."

"Simon Lewis?" Simon was interrupted by a tall guy, with reddish-brown hair and broad shoulders, wearing a tan jacket over a black sweater who had just walked in.

"Yeah?"

"You're under arrest."


	18. Banged up

"Oh perfect!" Simon cradled his hand, after the burning subsided. Some smart-ass had scratched a Star of David on the bars of his cell. It's like they knew he was coming.

Simon paced back and forth, wearing a hole in the cement floor. The drunk on the bed beside him grunted in his sleep, and rolled over, falling off the bench and smacking into the ground. Simon physically flinched, but didn't move to help him. His nostrils were recoiling at his very stench, and that was from six-feet away.

"Simon Lewis?" The guard called his name, checking it off her clipboard with a flamboyant tick. Simon remained perfectly still, waiting. The doors to the cell cranked open, the hinges rusty and noisy. Simon stepped outside, and felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulder.

Well, until she said: "Follow me to interrogation room B."

Simon did as he was told. His fingers nervously tapped the table, his legs swinging back and forth on the creaky chair. He leaned back and balanced on one leg, his hands clasped behind his head while he waited. He craned his head and saw a white puff of hair speaking to the guard.

Delia and the guard entered the room, and Simon watched warily as Delia sat in front of him.

"Mr. Lewis." she said, fixing the lapels on her dark pants suit and fiddling with the lock on her brown battered briefcase.

"Hi," he muttered.

"I can take it from here," Delia told the cop. The woman looked wary, and Delia rolled her eyes. "It's okay, I've got this. Here are my credentials."

Delia grabbed a billfold from her trouser-pocket and flipped it open. Simon narrowed his eyes. All he saw was a white blank page tucked into the leather folds. The cop seemed to see something else.

"That's perfect. Thanks you Ms. Jones."

The woman left, and Delia resumed her seat.

"What did you do?"

"I used my powers of persuasion." Delia said, not meeting his eyes. "Better yet, are you going to tell me what's going on? I told you, everyone has a story."

"I guess you were right?" Simon leaned back further, and felt the chair give way beneath him. He stalled it mid-fall, and resumed his leaning stance. He caught Delia's eyes, and she looked mildly impressed.

The thing is that no human eye could have detected a move so small.

"What are you?" He asked, studying her.

"Well, that's rude." she feigned hurt, but broke her resolve by sniggering.

"How did you use a white piece of paper to get in here?"

"Like I said my powers of persuasion."

"And like I said, what are you?"

Delia thought for a moment. "I infused the paper with compulsion. They see whatever I want them to see. I can also hear most people's thoughts, and I can change my appearance at will. Now, What am I?"

"You're a Fairy?"

"Close, but no cigar. I'm part-fey. From my mother's side."

"Right."

"And you are all Vampire."

"Yup."

"And an oddity at that. I never met a Daylighter before. I thought you were just urban legends."

"Maybe. I'm a living legend."

"Well, you've got the ego to match, I trust."

"Sometimes. How's Gwen?"

Delia smiled. "She's fine. Combing through her Law library for a way to get you out of here."

"She's a good friend." he smiled; amused by the fact Gwen _had_ a law library. And then he turned. "But why are you here."

"I just wanted a few minutes with you, alone, before your mother arrives."

"All right," Simon said. "Go ahead. But I don't have many answers. But you have to answer some of my questions before I answer yours. Deal?"

"That's not how this works." she fumed.

"But its how it's going to work." Simon countered. "Firstly: Your Café is called the Half-way house. Is that meant to be ironic?"

"Yes." she smiled. "I'm glad you picked up on it. Especially since Gwen and I work there."

"Right. Question two: How did you find Gwen?"

"I knew her Mother. We worked together for years. I watched Gwen grow up. So when Jean stopped coming to work, I knew something was wrong. When I found Gwen again, I offered her a job. She refused to live with me. She's fiercely independent."

"I noticed." Simon cocked an eyebrow at how straight her answers were. "Third and final question: Did you know about Hodge?"

Her eyes fell to the floor. "Yes. I knew him. He's dead, I hear."

"Yes, he is." Simon said.

"Well, that answers my question."

"What?" Simon's chair fell to the ground.

"I wanted to know if you knew Hodge. And I want you to keep the truth from Gwen."

"Why?"

"You ask an awful lot of questions."

"Your answers give me more questions to ask."

"Touché."

She rang her hands together. "Gwen is a great girl: She's smart, funny, caring…..She's also intuitive. As soon as she discovers the truth about Hodge, she'll never trust me, or you, again. And I can't bear to lose her. I've already lot her mother. Jean was like a daughter to me."

"I get it." Simon said. "But I won't lie to her. If she asks I'll tell her. You understand?"

Delia sighed. "I guess that's fair. I better go unfreeze your mother."

"Un-what my mother?"

"I needed time with you. And trust me; by the expression on her face, she needed time to cool off. You should be thanking me."

"Um… Thank you?" Simon said, more than a little confused.

"Good boy," she smiled, opening the door and exiting. She began to leave, but froze and turned at the door. "Simon, you're right about the dark age. It's tomorrow."

"What?"

"I may not be able to read your mind fully, but I heard that. And I'm a little more than intuitive if you catch my drift. Just, trust your instinct, kid. And it'll happen on 77th and 2nd."

"What will?"

"That's where she'll fall."

Simon leaped out of his chair, but she was gone in a puff of smoke.

Crap!


	19. Rememeber me?

_**Simon's mother slammed the front door behind her. After a 20 minute, silent car ride home, the noise was a welcome addition. **_

"_**What," she pulled off her jacket and put it on the coat hanger beside the door. It kept falling off, and she was too frustrated to care. "Were you thinking, Simon?"**_

_**Simon opened his mouth to answer, but she cut him off. "But you weren't thinking, were you? I was worried sick about you! If anything happened to you, I don't know what I'd do."**_

_**Simon hung his head, but she mistook his gesture. "Don't you dare smirk at me. I'm serious. You and your sister are all I have left! If anything…." her words were cut off as she chocked on her tears. Shoulders quaking, she grasped the doorframe for balance and was consumed by her tears. **_

_**Simon didn't think he could feel any worse, until that. "Mom…"**_

_**She looked up; her face flushed with tears, and took her son in her arms in a fierce embrace. She wiped her tears on his t-shirt, and Simon awkwardly patted her back. She laughed, but it came out in a wheezy cough as tears strangled her. Simon realised they weren't tears of anger; they were tears of joy. **_

"_**I'm just so happy your okay." her watery smile made Simon's chest twinge. His mother gasped, but said nothing. **_

"_**Are you okay?" **_

"_**Yeah," she said, rubbing the spot on her chest. "Just………It's nothing."**_

"_**I'm going to bed." Simon trudged up the stairs. **_

"_**Don't you want breakfast?"**_

"_**I already had some." he called, waving a one hand salute before rounding the corner to his room. Simon fell on his bed and exhaustion wore through every one of his limbs. He hadn't slept in days, and contrary to prior belief, vampires need sleep too. They just don't need as much as Humans and it was generally contained to daylight hours. **_

_**Simon watched the constellation stickers on his ceiling, counting every incandescent spot as sunrise billowed through his open shades. He was just beginning to drift off, when there was a faint tapping on his door. **_

"_**What?" he moaned, stuffing his pillow onto his face and rolling onto his side.**_

_**The door cracked open, and Simon could smell his sister enter the room. He didn't have to see her to tell she had a smug smile on her face. **_

"_**Well, well," she laughed. "You've really done it now, haven't you? It's the end of golden boy's era."**_

"_**Just leave me alone." **_

"_**Fine," she sighed. Simon heard her stall at the door, hesitant. "I'm glad you're okay."**_

"_**Thanks?" **_

_**She didn't reply, but she didn't shut the bedroom door as she left. Simon heard her pound down every step and enter the kitchen. Pots and pans were crashing on the room, ad he heard the familiar ding that told him coffee was ready. **_

_**He drowned out the sound and entered the world of sleep. **_

_**Simon……Simon, help…..help.**_

**His eyes shot open and he was paralysed. His limbs seemed to be stuck to the bed. The voice left a nasty knot in his mind. It sounded familiar, but it was distorted and distant; coming from some place far away. **

**Or more accurately, from somewhere that didn't technically exist yet: The future. **

"**Simon?" his mother tentatively knocked on his bedroom door. She needn't have bothered, Simon had been awake for the last three hours, constantly pacing the room, and crawling on his bedroom ceiling. Literally. He dropped wit a soft, noiseless thud, and his mother entered the room. She had an amused expression on her face. **

"**There's a girl here to see you." **

"**Really?" he sighed, his stomach fluttering. "Tell Clary I'll be down in a minute."**

"**It's not Clary." she smiled a knowing smile and left him. **

**Simon walked downstairs and found his mother, nursing a cup of coffee at the kitchen counter, laughing with a young girl with long, dark hair.**

"**Isabelle?"**

**She wheeled around, and Simon's stomach dropped. It was Gwen. It wasn't that he wasn't happy to see her, he was. But for some reason, he felt…..disappointed. **

"**He's forgotten my name already." she sighed dramatically, and Simon's mother giggled. He was so caught off guard by this uncharacteristic behaviour, that he just stood there, his mouth agape. Gwen rolled her eyes and turned back to her cup of coffee. **

"**Gwen," Simon finally regained some sort of composure. "What are you doing here?"**

"**You have the attention span of a gnat, don't you?" she tutted. "You said you would take me out for coffee. I'm just making sure you keep your word."**

"**Gwen, I don't think…"**

"**Go," Simon's mother said, waving her hand dismissively. "Have fun. But be back by five, Capische?"**

"**What is with everyone and capische?!" he groaned. **

"**It's a good word," Gwen quipped. "Almost musical."**

"**That's enough input from you," he muttered. Simon's mother hadn't heard him, but Gwen had, and she waggled her ever-expressive eyebrows at him. **

"**Okay, Mom. I'll see you later."**

"**Have fun. And be safe."**

**Gwen pursed her lips to stop herself from laughing, and Simon felt nauseous. The innuendo hadn't been lost on either of them. **

"**All right, Mom. Bye."**

**He slammed the door behind him and they walked down the street. **

"**You're mom is nice." Gwen said simply. **

"**Yeah, she's the best."**

"**No wonder you're such a mamma's boy. I get it now."**

"**Shut up. What do you want?"**

"**Don't get pissy with me, Ms. Thing!" she snorted, catching her hand on a lamp post and twirling like Gene Kelly. "I was breaking you out."**

"**Why?"**

"**I thought you were planning a revolution?"**

"**They were your words, not mine."**

"**And they are fine words, If I say so myself."**

"**Which you do."**

"**Who's Isabelle?"**

**Simon froze. "What?"**

"**Who's Isabelle?" she asked again. "I think it's a simple enough question."**

""**Isabelle is…..a friend." he finished lamely. Yesterday he wouldn't have had the problem saying it. Today, not so much. **

"**A friend. Right." she drawled on the word, and Simon eyed her. **

"**She is." **

**Gwen stood in front of Simon, rolling up the sleeves of her grey blazer and staring him straight in the eye. He watched her warily, as she inspected him. A wide smile broke across her face. **

"**Aww, that's so cute."**

"**What is?" they began walking again, but Gwen had an added skip in her skip.**

"**You're in like with her."**

**Simon was more than confused. "I'm in what with her?"**

"**In like with her. It's not quite love, but it's getting there."**

"**How do you……What do you….What?" Simon cursed himself silently for being so unsmooth. The look on Gwen's face told him that apparently she found his frustration adorable. **

"**Oh, you're so adorakble!"**

**Or adorkable. **

"**Fantastic." he sighed, tousling his hair in frustration. **

"**So back to business. We need recruits. You told that one down the phone that you had three days."**

"**Actually, it's tomorrow."**

"**Even better." she grinned. "I work well under pressure."**

"**I noticed."**

"**So, we need people."**

"**I can round up a couple." Simon said, his mind grinding gears. **

"**I'd start researching, you know, If I knew what was going on." she huffed. **

"**I'd tell you, but I don't even know what's going on."**

"**Oh, that's brilliant," she said sarcastically. "Because every great war has a dim-witted leader."**

"**Hey."**

"**Offence intended."**

"**I noticed."**

**She scratched the scar on her forehead absentmindedly, her eyes blazing with ideas, and growing dull as each idea failed to meet the mark. **

"**I think," Simon said, "we need help."**

"**I think," Gwen said, "That's the smartest thing you've said all day. Where to, Romeo?"**

"**Brooklyn. I've got to see a man about a dog."**

"**What?"**

"**Never mind."**

**Gwen and Simon found the nearest subway station and took the red-line to Brooklyn. There was barely room to breathe on the crowded cart, and mundane and the magical were interspersed in each carriage, neither acknowledging the other. **

**They finally arrived in Brooklyn, and Simon tried to hail a cab, and failed. He tried again, but Gwen held up a hand to stall him, and two Taxis in the same instant. **

"**You know," she sighed dramatically. "Sometimes it's hard to be this fabulous."**

"**You should definitely meet Jace," Simon rolled his eyes and they slid into the backseat. It smelled of a mix of fish and menthol cigarettes, and Simon held his breath for the entire car ride. **

**They finally reached their destination, and Simon scrounged in his pocket for some spare change. **

"**Thanks," Gwen said, upon leaving, and their cab driver gave her a warm smile. She linked her arms through Simon's, and the cab driver gave Simon the evil eye before driving off into mid-afternoon traffic.**

"**Here we are," Simon said inanely, not sure what else to say. **

**Gwen stared around, looking mildly confused. **

"**This place seems….familiar."**

"**Really?" Simon climbed the steps and rapped his knuckles on the door. They waited. **

"**This is weird," she said, rubbing the Goosebumps on her forearms. "This doesn't feel right."**

"**Are you okay?" Simon asked, hopping down from the stoop. Gwen had grown deathly pale and her eyes had clouded over. **

"**I…I don't know." she breathed, her voice growing fainter. **

**The door burst open, and Magnus stood there in a blue, mesh-top, covered by a black sports jacket. **

"**Well, Well, little Vampire. Two visits in two days, I should be…."**

**He stopped mid-sentence and his eyes drifted to Gwen, who was doubled over. Simon held an arm around her waist as support. She shook him off and stared at Magnus. Confusion crossed her features, as well as recognition.**

"**Magnus?" she breathed, almost lost for words. **

"**Gwen?" he said, equally stunned. **

**And then she collapsed into Simon's arms, out cold. **


	20. Secrecy Sucks

"What the--" Simon stopped over Gwen's body, shaking her roughly to try and rouse her awake. It didn't work. Her heart still beat, and Simon could hear he rush of blood as it flowed through her veins, but she was dead to the world.

Still, it was better than dead.

Magnus stood, motionless, at the doorway, shock paralysing his face into an expressionless mask. Simon darted a glance at him, but he didn't register any presence other than his own.

"Magnus, help me." He yelled. Picking up Gwen's body from the ground and shaking it once more. She uttered a slight grunt, but did not wake.

Magnus did not move.

"Help me!" Simon screamed; his voice strained from the force of his words. Concern knotted in his stomach, but he ignored it and concentrated on helping her.

Magnus napped out his reverie with a snap; his cat-like eyes narrowing in concentration. He snapped his fingers, and Gwen's body began levitating five feet from the ground. Suspended in mid-air, she floated toward the door. Simon followed, and placed a hand on her cheek. She was burning up, her face flushed and her body trembling. But she was still out for the count.

Magnus walked through the door, followed by Gwen's floating body and Simon in hot pursuit. He walked toward his bedroom door, and the door sprang open without a push. Gwen floated toward the bed and landed softly on Magnus' black silk sheets. Magnus murmured a few words quickly in her ear. He gently tucked a strand of her dark hair behind her ear and his hand lingered on her cheek. He sighed, and swiftly left the room, closing the door softly behind him.

Simon fell back onto Magnus' coach, feeling every spring reverberate behind him. He rolled his shoulder around, and furrowed his brow as a loose spring pierced into his skin.

"You need a new couch." Simon said, hanging his head between his knees as he jack-knifed himself forward.

"Its fine," he said, waving his left hand and conjuring a glass of something brown and pungent into his right. "It's not used to taking such a beating."

"Why would it take a beat--" Simon leaped off the coach in mild disgust, and Magnus cocked an eyebrow at him. "Not in that way." Magnus shook his head and sat on the armchair closest to the window, staring longingly out into the mid-day sunshine as it hit the pavement below. There was nothing particularly special about it, but Simon guessed that Magnus just wanted to escape. Something had definitely put him on edge.

"Is she going to be okay?" Simon asked after several long, insufferable minutes of silence.

"She'll live." Magnus said, finally letting his gaze drift toward Simon.

"Are you okay?"

Magnus considered it for a moment, and then smirked. "I'll live."

"Right," Simon said, sitting down on the coach again and sitting a little straighter than he had before. He clasped his hands in one another and sat forward. "Right," he said again, the gears in his brain grinding constantly.

He couldn't stand it any longer and he had to ask. "How do you know Gwen?"

Magnus looked uncomfortable. "We go way back."

"Would you care to elaborate?"

"No, I wouldn't." Magnus growled. It was so uncharacteristic; Simon knew he had hit a nerve.

"Magnus, she fainted when she saw you, I don't think that's a coincidence."

"Its not." he conceded, fingering the rim of his glass and taking another sip of his drink before grimacing at the taste.

"I hate this stuff," he grumbled. "You can give me a nice Apple-tini any day."

"So why are you drinking it?" the smell of it was burning Simon's nostrils.

"Courage." he said simply, and downed another mouthful.

"You know, I'm a good listener. What good is a vampire if not for their hearing?"

Magnus chuckled. "Or their perseverance."

"Exactly," Simon smirked. "So, how do you know Gwen?"

"It's…complicated."

"What isn't?" Simon snapped.

"Watch your hormone-fuelled mouth," Magnus snapped. "I may have patience, but it's beginning to run out."

"Fine." Simon gritted his teeth together tightly and remained silent, his eyes urging Magnus to keep going.

Magnus heaved a sigh. "Fine. But it doesn't leave this room."

"My lips are sealed."

"That can be arranged." Magnus's dark glare lingered just a second to long, and a knot formed in Simon's stomach. He nodded, and Magnus said "Do you know about Hodge?"

"That he's Gwen's dad, yeah."

Magnus' eyebrow kinked. "I wasn't expecting you to know. Well, that makes things simpler. You see, Gwen came to find Hodge, and she finally tracked him down. At this point, Hodge was terrified that Valentine or the Clave would find out about her. He had to keep her secret. That's where I came in."

"Wait a minute, why was Hodge so freaked about Gwen?"

"You see, Hodge met Jean Stark when he was 23, He had just come to the city for a visit. And well, not to make things mushy, but he fell head over heels for her. Of course, Jean actually felt the same about him. And then Gwen was on the way. You may be a little virgin vampire, but I assume you know about the birds and the bees."

Simon would have blushed if it were possible, but thankfully it wasn't, or his skin would be radio-active red.

"Hodge knew he couldn't stay with them, so he left. The clave forced him to stay away, and he was trapped in the Institute. Before he left them, he gave Gwen a Seraph Blade that he had made from scratch, and a necklace, so hopefully, she would find him one day. Believe what you want, but Hodge genuinely loved that girl."

"Why are you telling me this?" Simon asked.

"For context," Magnus shrugged. "Seventeen years later, Gwen turned up on the doorstep of the Institute and Hodge opened the door. He whisked her inside and hid her from the Lightwoods. They couldn't know she existed. They would call the Clave. They would experiment on her, inquisition her, maybe even kill her because of what Hodge had done. So he called me."

"Why you?"

"He needed my expertise. I came to the Institute and his on the roof. Hodge knocked Gwen out and I used an incantation to put her in a state of suspended animation until such a time that she was safe to be released. She was hidden between worlds, between dimensions. It killed Hodge to have to do it, but he knew it was for the best."

"So how did she escape?" Simon asked.

"She didn't."

"What?"

"The spell was broken the night that Hodge died. Her soul was bound to his. She woke with no memory of what happened, and no way of knowing what he had done to her. "

"I don't get it."

"I don't expect you to. But this will probably put it in context. This happened seven years ago."

Simon froze, blood drumming in his ears. "How is that possible?"

"Because I achieve seven impossible things before breakfast."

"So Gwen…."

"Should, technically, be twenty-four years old."

"And she has no idea?"

"That's the beauty of it. Not much has changed in the last seven years; the world is pretty much the same. Any drastic change, and her mind blanks. She sees dates as they were seven years ago. She's living in her own world."

"That's bizarre."

"I know."

"Why did you help Hodge? He had no money. And how did Gwen remember your name?"

"Gwen remembers me because I am not her father. She forgets everything to do with him. And I helped Hodge because…..I felt I had to."

"But why?"

"You ask a lot of questions."

"Just give me the answers then."

"Fine," he snapped, his could resolve breaking. He squeezed the glass and it cracked into little pieces in his firm grip. He shook away the shards and they hit the floor.

"Fine, you want to know?" he yelled.

"Yes." Simon said simply.

"I helped Hodge because I felt I had to."

"Why did you think you had to?"

"Through Family loyalty."

A shiver ran through Simon. "What are you saying, Magnus?"

"I'm saying," He laughed uncomfortably, "That I have a dark little secret."

"Which is?" Simon asked, already dreading the answer/"

"That I'm, technically, Gwen's great-great grandfather."


	21. Once upon a time

Simon burst out laughing.

"Well," Magnus laughed humourlessly, "I'm glad you find it amusing."

Simon stopped laughing.

"Oh, you're serious?"

"Not to be too nineties -- but duh!"

Magnus shook the remaining shards of glass into the floor and they disappeared in a wisp of smoke.

It was rare that Simon was stuck for words, but his mouth just flopped open and shut; like he was speaking but making no sound.

Finally, his vocal chords began to work. "But how did that -- just how?"

"It's complicated."

"That's the theme of the week," Simon hung his head between his knees and watched the grain of the wood floor. "I'm sorry I laughed, it's just a little…"

"Unexpected?" Magnus smiled crookedly, but it never met his eyes. His feline features flared with years of torment hidden in his eyes. Simon watched him, and it suddenly struck him that he and Gwen had the same colour eyes. Both shockingly green; although Gwen's were preposterously pretty and Magnus'-- well, they glowed in the dark.

"Yeah," Simon pursed his lips and fingered the cuffs of his shirt, playing with the frayed edges. "Especially since you're…."

"A screaming homosexual and darn proud of it?"

"Exactly!" Simon laughed, and somewhere the air seemed less stuffy and the atmosphere was less tense. Well, for Simon at least; Magnus was completely stressed out. He leaped off the armchair and raced to the kitchen. He pulled the fridge door open, shut it, opened a cupboard door, shut that, and then went back to the fridge. He stopped in the centre of his apartment and pulled at his hair, which seemed to be changing colours according to his mood; alternating between black and blue.

He let out a small scream and stared at Simon, his eyes wild and yearning for understanding. "It was never meant to happen. I mean, everyone experiments right? And I had centuries of sixties built up, so I decided to see what all the fuss was about. I met Annabeth at a party held at Carnegie hall. Everyone who was anyone was going. The setting was spectacular, chandeliers and candles lit up the entrance hall like stars in the midnight sky-- but it paled in comparison to her. She was beautiful." his eyes wandered as he recalled the ghosts of his past. "The most beautiful woman I had ever seen. Her very presence made the room a million watts brighter, and her laugh was like a bell chime on a tower tinkling. Every man in the room coveted her. And thanks to peer pressure, and an effort to prove I was ten times hotter than any of the monsters posing as men, I decided to pursue her."

"I made her acquaintance at the bar, and she was immediately drawn to me. I have this exotic look that some people just die for, but she wasn't interested in that. She was fascinated by my eyes. She saw straight through the glamour and I instantly knew this woman was special. Her hair was as black as coal and fell in a waterfall of curls down her back. She had a perfect tan complexion, and her blue eyes were stunning. They were like lightning hitting the sea. I had to know her."

"For weeks we courted, laughing and joking and hitting all the local hot-spots. But she was a lady, and realised I wasn't actually interested in her that way, even though I thought could be. She knew me well. She was the best friend I ever had."

Tears filled Magnus' eyes as he choked on his memories. Simon got up to comfort him, but felt awkward and cumbersome and stood watching Magnus, his hands stiffed in his pockets, while he waited for him to continue. Thankfully, that seemed to be exactly what he needed.

Magnus waved his hand and conjured up a bottle full of blood and tossed it to Simon. Simon guzzled it down willingly, washing out the bitter taste of pancakes that wee threatening to come up again. That was one of the main down-sides of being a vampire; you can't enjoy a meal without seeing it again in slow motion.

"So what happened? If you didn't like her that way?"

"I didn't," he conceded, "at first. Slowly, I began to fall in love with the girl with the lightning eyes, and she me. Our days were spent together, and our nights…"

"Do I want to hear about your nights?"

"Prude," Magnus teased. Then shook his head. "Our nights were spent talking. Mainly on the Brooklyn bridge. I showed her things she could never imagine, and she showed me that I didn't have to always be alone."

"What do you mean?"

"Do you know what it's like?" Magnus laughed again, but the sound made Simon's throat dry up. It was so full of pain and anguish; it was unbearable. "To love someone and then watch them die? For centuries I had lived, going from man to man to sate my need for companionship, but leaving the next morning without a word. Because if I didn't, I would steal their lives, they would wallow away; deteriorate, while I stayed forever fabulous. It's a nightmare."

"Thanks for the warning." Simon said, his mind going into overdrive. He always knew he would have to wander alone. But he never realised how finite the word _alone_ could be. All his friends, family and….others would pass on, and he would stay, mourning them in a body that couldn't even get served with a fake I.D.

"I'm sorry," Magnus muttered. "For everything. I'm not exactly myself today."

"I noticed." Simon smiled. "Go on, you were saying that things changed."

"Annabeth discovered she couldn't have children. It tore her up inside. She was the maternal kind; I think that's why she was drawn to me, because I was lost and in need of guidance. She told me she was fine, and stupidly, I believed her. Then one night I found her on top of the bridge, ready to jump."

"What?!"

"I froze her, and pulled her down, but the sheer suffering on her face was enough to break my resolve. I had to help her in any way I could."

"So what happened?"

"I agreed to help her. We searched in every spell book I had, and I called on any hint of power I could think of, but nothing worked."

"Hold up, I though you slept with her!"

"I did," he sighed. "Eventually. She knew that I was swinging on the other side of the gate, so to speak, and she asked me not to compromise myself to help her. Really, she was begging for a miracle. And I desperately wanted to give it to her, I did, but nothing worked. I had heard stories of warlocks who had mated with Mundanes, but their offspring was too powerful. They were always men, and for a time they reeked havoc on cities and towns. You really think Pompeii was just a freak explosion?"

Simon gulped.

"Exactly," Magnus said. "So the Children of Lilith decided that no more half-breeds would be created. They posed too big a threat. But I loved Annabeth too much to see her suffer alone. So one night, I told her we had no other option."

"Romantic."

"That's what she said," Magnus smiled. "But I did love her Simon; I still do to this day. She's the best friend I've ever had. Our child was born nine months later, and Annabeth knew she had to leave. She took Grace Maggie Bane with her and I never saw them again."

"But why did she leave?"

He sighed. "Because I told her to."

"And that was because..?"

"Because I loved her."

"Besides that."

"They would have killed her, and our child. Annabeth could see through the veil. Mundane's can't do that very often; they would have grilled her and she was strong, but not that strong. You know how the Clave are? Well, my people are worse, trust me. And our daughter's life was in danger because of her gender. It had never happened before; Warlock's don't have girls."

"Aren't they witches? "

"No. That's just science fiction rubbish. Witches are a completely different species. No, Grace was special. But she was more powerful than any half-blood male would have been. When she ascended on her eighteenth birthday. All hell would have broken loose."

"Gwen's almost eighteen." Simon said, and Magnus nodded his head gravely.

"I hope that the blood line would have diluted down, and that Gwen has no powers."

"She can fly."

"Well, float, to be more exact."

"Crap." he laid his hands down on the coffee table and with a swift swipe, sent everything that lay on it-- magazines, bowls, glasses, incense-- crashing to the ground.

"It'll be fine." Simon said, trying to reassure him.

"How do you know?"

"I don't. But sometimes I think stuff and it happens."

Magnus smiled at his feeble attempt to cheer him up.

"So Hodge called you?"

"Seven years ago. Jean must have told him about her warlock grandfather, and he put two and two together. Smart man."

"Yeah."

Simon sat down for a second, feeling light headed. "My mind is blown." Simon said.

"Yeah, well try living it," Magnus gave him a simpering smile.

"Does Alec know?"

"That I have an illegitimate great-great-granddaughter? No, he doesn't. And I don't plan on telling him anytime soon. Maybe give it a few years."

Simon smiled. "You really like him, don't you?"

"I love him, numb-nuts." Magnus laughed. "I always had a thing for black-haired blue-eyed boys."

"And girls," Simon added.

"Shut it," Magnus growled unconvincingly. "You're right, you are a good listened. If this vampire thing ever gets boring, try psychology."

"Will do," Simon promised.

Magnus' ear cocked toward the door, "I think she's waking up. I put her in a magically-induced coma."

"Nice."

Magnus left the room to check on Gwen, and Simon span around in a circle, watching a pair of birds on a phone line outside the window.

Suddenly, he was flung backwards into the wall and felt his muscles stiffen as pictures and hangings crashed down around him.

"What the..?"

Simon was glued to the wall, literally. He couldn't move, and a lamp was levitating menacingly two feet from his face. The lights in the apartment flickered and a gust of wind blew from all around.

Magnus stood in the centre of the room, furious. His hair stood on end and his arms were raised above his head. He looked demonic.

"Magnus?"

"What did you do?"

"What?"

"You bit my great-great-great granddaughter?! I'm going to kill you, and make it last this time!"

_Oh crap. _

_Simon knew he had got away too easy!_


	22. Love bites

It took Simon longer than he liked to admit to realise that he was suspended in midair, and not actually hitting anything.

"Magnus, Let me down!"

Magnus growled, baring his teeth. He was a feral beast focused on his prey.

"Look," Simon said, his shirt constricting around his throat and cutting off his words. "You can't hurt me, and you know it. So just let me down; we need to talk."

"You have no _idea_ what you've done, have you?!" Magnus' laugh was psychotic, like he had lost any grip on sanity and was spiralling into pure, unadulterated crazy.

"Look, it was an accident. You can't believe how bad I feel. I just caught her scent, and there was no stopping it. It was like a drug; the bloodlust just took over."

"That shouldn't have happened," Magnus shrieked, shutting his eyes tight to block out the world. "It shouldn't be possible. I bound her. I bound Grace, and Gwen should be bound as well…." Magnus' eyes shot open. "Wait, how did you stop?"

"Sorry?" Simon squirmed. He was two centimetres from the wall, but it made him edgy and he just wanted to be put down. Even when he climbed, he had something to hold on to.

_Maybe that's why vampires don't turn into bats,_ he thought, _they don't like to fly!_

Then Simon realised he wasn't a fan of flying before, and put it out of his mind.

"I don't know," Simon said when Magnus' asked him again through clenched teeth. "At first, I thought I never would. It was like heaven had burst over my taste buds. But suddenly, it was like my tongue was on fire. And not the 'I've just had a really spicy hot paella' kind of fire; it was like sulphur from the pits of hell. And trust me, I should know. I've been recently acquainted."

Magnus' lip quirked, but he immediately bit it down. "You don't understand, do you? This shouldn't be happening. Gwen shouldn't have powers. She shouldn't be able to fly, and I have no idea how she repelled you, but it's not…..natural."

"You don't like not knowing things, do you?"

"I'm perpetually right about everything that's ever happened ever, so not knowing something does tend to grind my gears, yes."

"Magnus, please let me down." Simon begged. He felt uneasy. He didn't like it. He didn't like having no control.

Magnus' eyes flared again. "You'd like that wouldn't you? Go on, beg some more. I love it."

"Dude," Simon groaned, "your mood swings are giving me whiplash!"

Suddenly, Magnus went flying back, and crashed against the wall, and Simon fell to the ground, and landed lithely on the balls of his feet, stretching the soles of his worn-down converse.

Simon looked around, and Gwen stood at the edge of the bedroom, her arms out-stretched and her expression fierce. Her eyes were completely green; there was no white of the eyes, or black of the pupil. Just pure iridescent green. It was terrifying.

"Gwen," Simon said softly, like coaxing a cat down from a tree. "Gwen, stop."

Magnus twitched and convulsed on the ground, his eyes rolling back into his head and droll dribbling from the corner of his lips.

"Gwen," Simon yelled, trying to get through to her, "stop it!"

She didn't. Her fists curled into a ball, and the lights started to flicker on and off. The floor shook beneath them, like the trembles of an earthquake. Simon raced across the apartment, and pulled Gwen into his arms, shaking her.

"Wake up," he screamed, "this isn't you. Gwen, please stop!"

There was a pull in Simon's stomach, like someone was jerking a string inside him, and simultaneously Gwen snapped out of her trance. Her eyes reverted back to their pretty, blazing former selves.

She smiled. "Hey, you."

"Hey you!" Simon smiled back; relieved she was back to normal. He must have held onto her just a second to long, because she placed her hands on his chest and pushed him away. "Hey, respect my boundaries. I'm not that type of girl, and you're definitely _not_ the type to make me that type."

"Oh, thanks."

"No problem."

He let her go, and stepped back awkwardly. Gwen snorted, and then saw Magnus lying feeble on the floor.

"Oh my…" She fell to her knees and crawled toward him, her hands clasped over her mouth, shaking her head continuously.

"Are you okay?" the sound was muffled as it came through her laced fingers.

"Yeah," he said, but his words were slurred. He rubbed the back of his head and groaned. Blood stained the palm and dotted his long, lean fingers. The smell made Simon sick; it was like the scent that billowed from the Hudson River or from alleyways in the bad side of town. Whatever it was, it made him gag.

Magnus and Gwen cocked their heads toward Simon, who was continually dry-heaving. Then they each went back to ignoring him.

"How's the head?" Gwen asked. Her voice was firm, but there was a definite squeak to it; like she was high on helium.

"I'll live." he muttered.

"You have for the last 600 years, and little old me isn't going to change that." she laughed feebly, trying to alleviate the tension.

"I wouldn't be so sure," Magnus muttered.

"Just…" Gwen said, reaching out to touch him. He flinched and her lips pressed into a thin hard line.

"What are you doing?" he asked, recoiling from her touch.

"Just let me try something." Gwen whispered something under her breath, and softly touched the soft spot on the back of Magnus' inky-black spiked hair. A faint glow emanated from the tips of her fingers, and her skin seemed to glow like it was covered by moonlight at midnight; an unearthly, otherworldly hue.

Which was weird since it was only after two in the afternoon.

Magnus' eyes grew round with wonder. Gwen smirked at a job well done.

"It's healed?"

"Yeah, I know." she smirked, silently proud of herself.

"Do you do that often?"

"Nope. That was a first."

"Impressive."

"Glad you think so, cos."

Simon reeled at that. Cos?

"What?" he interjected.

"Oh, Simon," Gwen said, standing up slowly and brushing the thighs of her jeans. "This is my cousin, Magnus."

Magnus shifted uncomfortably after getting to his feet.

"Cousin?" Simon asked incredulously.

"As far out as a lighthouse." Gwen laughed, and Magnus half-heartedly joined in. "I mean," she joked "can't you see the family resemblance?"

"Now that you mention it…" Simon began, but Magnus narrowed his eyes.

"What are you two doing here?" He said gruffly. Gwen was taken aback.

"Whoa, what's got your panties in a twist? Can't a girl come and see her favourite 4th cousin?"

"No," he said.

"Charming. But you're right, we need help."

"I know you do."

Simon decided to just repress the whole situation. "Magnus, we need you to gather some warlock's together. There'll be a quasi-apocalypse tomorrow."

"Fantastic. Just another thing to interrupt my beauty sleep. I may make it look easy, but being this devastatingly handsome takes a lot of time and effort."

Gwen sighed. "How do you fit that ego through the door, Magnus?"

"It's proportional to my brilliance, so it fits perfectly," he huffed, becoming his old self again. Egotistical and extravagant. _Just how we like him_, Simon thought briefly.

On to business.

"So," Simon began, "I had this premonition, sort of…"

"Yeah, you told me when Isabelle was here."

"Right, well, it turns out I was right. That cloud is trouble. Something's going down tomorrow, and we need all the forces at the helm."

Magnus scrunched his nose in distaste. "Don't you think this sounds a little ridiculous?"

"Extremely," Simon agreed, "but what isn't ridiculous lately? I'm a day-time loving vampire, Gwen's quasi-warlock slash Shadowhunter…."

"I need a better name for that." she mused.

"And you…."

"I'll help, okay? Just shut up. I'm sick of you speaking."

Gwen laughed. "Magnus, have I ever told you I love you?"

"Nope," he smirked. "That would be a first."

"Huh?" she said. "I find that hard to believe."

"Whatever, let's get to work. What's the plan?"

Simon shifted from one foot to the other and failed to meet his eyes. "I was hoping you would be able to help with that?"

"I feel like Atlas," he sighed. Gwen barked a laugh, and Simon was more than a little confused. Gwen took pity on him and explained.

"The whole world's on his shoulders."

"Welcome to the club," Simon muttered. He crossed the apartment and began rummaging through cupboards, grabbed a few granola bars and snack packs, and a bottle of blood to sate his thirst.

"What are you doing?" Magnus asked.

"You need food. You're blood sugar's dropping."

"I'm fine."

"Stop playing the macho man." Gwen barked. Magnus cocked an eyebrow, and she convulsed in laughter. "Oh yeah, more camp than a pile of pink tents. I forgot."

"So," Simon chuckled, "what's the plan, High Warlock sir."

"First off, you better get your story straight with Isabelle, or she'll be mighty pissed my impossibly pretty great-great-grand--"

"Niece," Simon quickly cut in.

"Yes, her," Magnus' smouldering eyes softened for an instant. "Isabelle will get jealous. And I've seen her jealous streak. Not very pretty for such a pretty girl.

Simon worried his bottom lip. "I told you, there's nothing going on between me and Isabelle."

"Yet," Magnus and Gwen said in unison, before catching each others eyes and smiling.

"And you," he turned to Gwen, "are extremely stupid."

"Watch it, you know I can kick your ass in seven different ways, with one hand tied behind my back; Fourteen ways with both free. And that's on an off day."

"Well, you're still dense."

"Why, prey tell?"

"For becoming prey!"

"What?" Simon and Gwen said, looking at each other briefly to see if the other knew what was going on. They didn't.

"Nice love bite." Magnus tutted.

"It's not a love bite."

"Well, it's a big problem."

"Why?" Simon asked. "I didn't kill her, and she seems okay, so what's the problem? I feel awful but it could have been a hell of a lot worse."

"Not for you it couldn't." Magnus placed a hand casually on Simon's shoulder and gave it a sympathetic squeeze. He spun around and conjured a tumbler of bourbon into his hand, sipping it swiftly.

"What do you mean?"

"Think Simon. What did you do?"

"I bit her?"

"Besides that."

"I drank some of her blood."

"Exactly. Therein lies your problem."

"Now I'm confused," Gwen said, scratching her head like a monkey off the national geographic documentaries.

"Basically, Simon ingested your blood, and it's of a different composition to anyone else's. When I bound your great-great grandmother, it was one of the kinks I had to work through. But your father's Shadowhunter genes must have broken through and, well…."

"What?" they said together, not liking the look on Magnus' face.

"You're bound to one another."

"Oh no," Simon groaned, already seeing the problem. Gwen was, uncharacteristically, a little slower.

"Would you like to fill me in?"

"Basically, you die; he dies. End of story."

_Crap,_ Simon thought,_ yet another problem to deal with. _

_And people thought high-school was hard._


	23. Push and Pull

The sub-way to Manhattan was etched in silence. The creaking of the tracks and squeaking rats paved a nice ambient sound to how Simon was feeling. Gwen stood beside him, not daring to meet his eyes, and Magnus leaned against a pole opposite them, picking the black nail polish from his fingers.

"Ugh, I hate when it chips," he moaned, breaking the heavy silence.

"Yeah, Magnus, we all hate that," Gwen huffed, fury bubbling through her and venom coursing through her words, "Nail polish chipping! It's awful. It's the worst thing that's ever happened. It's the end of the world." She narrowed her eyes, "Oh, that's right, it's not. So just shut it, okay pumpkin?"

Magnus' mouth pressed into a thin, hard line and he stared at Simon. "It's not like it's my fault. Can you please control her?"

"I'm only one person." Simon sighed, but he knew that nothing he could say could help Gwen. She hadn't spoken to him since Magnus had dropped the bombshell on them, and she just seemed to be spiralling into a deeper funk as time wore steadily on.

The train jerked to a halt, and the bustling crowd pushed and shoved to exit the heavy steel doors. Simon, Gwen and Magnus made their way through the crowd and found themselves on 72nd and 2nd.

"The Institutes this way," Simon said, making a motion to take Gwen's hand to guide her, but quickly jerking it back. She hung her head low, averted her gaze and carried on ahead of them, kicking a bottle cap haphazardly in front of her.

"Magnus, I'm so sorry," Simon said once Gwen was out of earshot. Not that she would have noticed if she hadn't been; she was in a world of her own.

"It's done," Magnus sighed, "Let's just forget about it and get down to business. Have you called everyone?"

"Yeah, Iz, Jace and Alec are meeting us there, and Maya found a couple of Were's to help us out. We'll recruit a few more tonight. Hopefully we'll have enough, once the Shadowhunters join in."

"And Clary?" Magnus asked.

"Jocelyn is in the city. She came home from Idris, so they've gone to an art exhibition in Brooklyn, so she'll be gone all afternoon. Jace made sure of it."

"Good." Magnus said, "Good."

Magnus and Simon continued on, words hanging around them but failing to be said, like an endless stream of sounds that would never be heard. Simon's mind was reeling. He thought he was immortal. He thought nothing could kill him. It was comforting in a way, to realise that death wouldn't be on the cards for him.

And now, he may only have a day to live.

When they had found out about their bond, Gwen and Simon were stunned. Magnus explained that the blood would take Simon at least a week to remove from his system, and in that time if Gwen was killed, it would automatically snuff him out. It also meant that Gwen had made herself vulnerable, and she didn't like that. She didn't like feeling weak and infirm; she had to act. When Simon suggested that Gwen stay away from the fight, more for her sake than his own, she had given him a deadly glare, told him in no uncertain terms where to go, and informed him that she would be fighting, and that he would not try to protect her.

At first Simon thought this was pretty callous of her. She wasn't just banking on her own life anymore, she was affecting his. The fact that she would put both of them in danger had angered Simon, and made him realise that even though it felt like forever, he had only known this girl a day and a half; he barely knew her at all. He began thinking over all the time they had spent together. How one minute she would be hyper and crazy, happier than he thought humanely possible, the next she could be murderous and malicious and ready to kill.

It was then that Simon realised Gwen might not be entirely stable.

And that that wasn't her fault.

Fact 1: her mother had been murdered in front of her eyes by a blood-thirsty vampire. She had watched the light leave her eyes and the only person she could ever trust or that she had ever known was gone forever. At 16 Gwen was entirely alone in this world. No relatives, no friends, no contacts. Nothing.

That had to leave a mark, and Gwen had had to repress all her emotions if she was going to survive.

Fact 2: her father had left her. Of course, Simon knew that he had to, for her own safety, but Gwen didn't. Feelings of resentment and abandonment were brewing away under her skin. The fact was that Gwen felt like she could only ever be on her own. She didn't want connections because she always lost the people she cared about. When it came down to it though, Gwen craved interaction. She didn't want to be alone. So when someone showed any form of kindness toward her, she felt inextricably bonded to them. Which is why she had been so quick to trust Simon, despite the fact she had only met him. Even though she had tried to kill him, he had never tried to hurt her, and was only concerned about her safety. He had quickly become what she had most desperately craved; a friend.

And now, because of her, he might die.

That was why she was acting out of sorts. She was pushing him away. She wanted space from him. The people she loved, she had lost. She didn't want another person on her conscience.

Simon felt a crushing guilt wash down on him like a tidal wave crashing against a shore. It wasn't her fault; it wasn't anyone's. It was just fate.

And fate could be a tricky Mo-fo.

Simon couldn't control himself when Gwen had bled, just like Gwen couldn't control her genetic make-up. Her blood was potent, a drug. Magnus had bound his daughter to stop her powers developing, and allowed her to lead a normal life. But the Nephilim genes combined with that had proved too much. Gwen was unique.

That also meant she was unstable.

Her genetic make-up was off-kilter. The fact that she was a 24 year old woman in a seventeen year old body probably didn't help to alleviate the problem, and her suspended state of animation must have had some affect on her.

Gwen wasn't your regular shadow-hunter. She was unlike anyone else. Simon had to save her.

Not because she was unique. Not because he had to save her.

Because she was his friend.

"Are you all right? You're paler than usual." Magnus noted as they rounded the corner of the alleyway leading to the Institute.

"I'll live," Simon said.

Suddenly he felt a red welt burn across his face, and sliced form down his left arm. Simon gasped and groaned in agony. He fell to his knees, and the pulling sensation in his stomach intensified. Simon was sure that it would drag his insides out. Simon's breath became laboured and panicked.

Magnus was stopped in his tracks when he heard a thud. "Simon, are you…?"

Magnus fell to the ground beside his body. "Simon?" He asked, utterly perturbed. You're bleeding."

"What?" Simon gasped, doubling over as his stomach contracted back and forth. As though he were being punched repeatedly.

Simon realised what was going on and jumped to his feet, ignoring the war raging on his innards and raced to the Institute, hoping he wasn't already too late.

He'd told Magnus he'd live.

Now, he wasn't so sure.


	24. In the Ring

There was a ring of people blocking his view as Simon rounded the corner of the alleyway. The pain was excruciating, he would surely die from that alone.

Crack.

Simon's arm twisted out of its socket, ad he yowled in agony; fire burning through his last remaining nerves, and stars exploding behind his eyes. He hadn't been n this much pain since that night in the Clan's lair…..the night he died.

"Stop," He tried to yell, but his words were choked off, his airways blocked. Fortunately, he didn't need to breathe to live.

Unfortunately, Gwen did.

Simon scrambled through the crowd, filled with Fey, Weres and Warlocks, all watching in awe at what they beheld.

Jace Lightwood getting his ass kicked by a girl.

Jace lay on the ground, fire burning in his eyes, blood streaming down his nose. He spat a nasty chunk of it onto the ground. Simon was too flustered to care about its scent, and focused solely on Gwen, who was writhing and fighting against Alec's firm grip.

"Let me go," She screamed, thrusting herself back and forth to free herself from his embrace.

"Not until you tell us who you are and what the hell you think your doing attacking Jace!" Alec hissed in her ear, menace simmering in his words that caressed her ear.

"Wait," Simon groaned, not sure anyone could hear his. He shut his eyes, and with one quick and clean jerk, knocked his shoulder back into its proper position. He winced and bit his bottom lip to stop himself from screaming in agony.

"Simon?" Isabelle noticed him automatically as he pushed his way through the crowd. Her warm smile turned to horror as she saw the extent of his injuries and his newly formed bruises.

"What happened to you?" She said, holding her hands over her mouth and staring at him in shock.

Jace and Alec turned to look at Simon after Isabelle's declaration, and that was all Gwen needed. She rammed her heel into Alec's instep and jabbed her elbow into his face. There was a sickening crunch, and Alec fell away, clutching his broken nose between his hands, tears flowing from his eyes.

"Why you little…" Isabelle screamed, uncoiling her whip without a split second's hesitation and threw it toward Gwen. Simon felt its rips lick his skin and tear it open. The result was excruciating, and he groaned in agony. Gwen, meanwhile, seemed fine.

She cart wheeled out of Isabelle's way as the whip snacked toward her again, fond her balance on her tip toes and raced to the wall. Jace followed in his pursuit, blood smeared across his face, daggers in his eyes and in his hands.

Gwen reached the wall, Jace not far behind, without hesitation, she ran up the vertical slope of the building, defying gravity, before she back flipped away from the wall and pinned Jace there with the heel of her shoe, fists poised for the hit.

Jace was trapped. Isabelle was stunned. Alec was crying out. Simon was in agony.

"Are we done here?" Gwen growled, her breath ragged and laboured, her chest heaving.

"Depends on what we're done with." Jace's voice was muffled by the red bricks pinned against his face.

"I'll let you go, if you promise not to attack me again, comprende?"

"I love it when a chick speaks Spanish." He mumbled, but Gwen never loosened her grip in his back.

"I bet you just love it when a girl talks to you." she quipped.

"Actually, I prefer it when they're not talking." He said, rubbing his face as Gwen finally set him free from her death grip.

"Do we have a deal?" She said, her voice low and threatening and sending the hairs on the back of my neck into a standing ovation. I was out of breath, bruised and battered, but I still felt a trace of her anxiety through our bond.

"Fine," Jace said reluctantly, rubbing his jaw to lessen the tenderness.

"Not with me, you don't," Isabelle said, poising her whip like it was a cobra ready for the kill. "This is for my brother." The whip reached toward Gwen, and in a move that would have rivalled Keanu Reeves in "The Matrix", she fell into a backwards fall, missing the whips wrath, while simultaneously pulling her blade from her belt.

"Castiel," she screamed, and the blade came to life in her hands, blinding my eyes with the intensity of its shine.

Everyone was frozen in that moment, watching the girl with the double-edged seraph blade confronts Isabelle Lightwood. Isabelle's face remained calm, but her eyes were filled with shock and awe.

"That's a Seraph Blade," Jace said, stepping between Iz and Gwen. Isabelle's whip grew slack and she began to coil it up once more.

"I know this is so nineties, but Duh!" Gwen hissed, her blade never lowering from its attack position.

"Where did you get that?" Isabelle said, joining Jace and staring at the celestial blade, enraptured.

"I've never seen one like that." Isabelle mused, gently sliding her finger across the blade, before pulling away her bleeding index finger. "It's beautiful."

"Thanks," Gwen said, not sure what was going on, but staying wary.

"Who are you, and what do you want?" Alec said, his words slurred by his broken nose.

Magnus stepped through the crowd, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Now, Alec, is that anyway to treat my cousin?"

Alec turned toward Magnus, lowering his hands in confusion and revealing his badly broken nose, before covering it up again when he realised what a state he must have looked. Magnus frowned, strolled toward Alec and placed a kiss softly on his forehead. "My poor baby," He cooed, before turning toward Gwen, his cat-eyes narrowed. "Did you have to break his nose? I kinda liked it."

"No you kinda love him," She snorted. Magnus muttered "True," and Alec whipped his head toward him, a smile playing across his lips. Gwen turned her head toward Alec, rolled her eyes and never released her stance. "Sorry about the nose."

"'Snot a problem." Alec said, standing beside Magnus, his eyes shining. Apparently he was still buzzing over Magnus' somewhat declaration of love. It's not like they hadn't said it before, but for Alec, it never got old.

"Hey, my guy's funny." Magnus said, his green eyes shining in admiration, before sneaking another kiss against Alec's cheek.

"Huh?" Alec said.

"'Snot a problem'…" Magnus said, realising it mustn't have been intentional and laughed, before taking his boyfriend into an embrace.

"Oh, right." Alec said, smiling at their close proximity.

"No PDA, please. I'm sick enough already."

"In the mind?" Isabelle quipped.

"No, from your omelettes. Learn to cook, Iz." Jace answered, and received a punch in the arm as an answer.

Gwen stood there, utterly confused.

"Relax," Isabelle said. "You're one of us." Isabelle offered her hand in greeting, and Gwen stared at it in mystification.

"I don't bite." She smiled.

"She doesn't," Jace said, "Unless you want her, too."

"And there I was thinking Simon was the biter of the group." Gwen smiled, sheathing Castiel and shacking Isabelle's hand quickly but firmly.

"You know Simon?"

"Oh, God, Simon," Gwen gasped, and ran to Simon's bruised and beaten form, doubled over in agony.

"I'm sorry," she said, pulling him into an embrace and whispering into his ear. "I forgot about the bond. They saw me and attacked, and I had to defend myself."

"I know," Simon said, "I get it. Did you get a good smack in though?"

Gwen laughed airily, "If you think you're bad, you should see that gut with the blonde hair. He may not show it, but he's in pain."

"Great," Simon smiled. Gwen helped him into a fully standing position and kept her arm around him for support.

"Looks like she more than knows him," Jace said, his eyes dancing with amusement.

"Yeah," Isabelle said through gritted teeth. She wasn't so amused.


	25. Flirtation and Frustration

"Take it away, Simon," Gwen tightened her hold on Simon's waist as his legs began to wobble beneath him. He could feel a prickling against his side; Gwen was trying to heal him. It wasn't working, and he had an inkling why. H shook his head infinitesimally and took her right hand in his. He placed it on her waist and gave her a meaningful look, which, thankfully she understood instantly. Simon felt the warm tingling sensation radiating through his wounds, and this time he felt the pain begin to cease automatically.

Of course, the grateful look for one of affection, and he felt eyes burrowing holes into him, as well as a wolf-whistle or two from Jace.

"Oh, yeah, Simon, take it away. Shirt, panties, the whole shebang." Jace called, and was met by laughs and approving nods from members of their little audience.

Simon had never been more grateful that he couldn't blush.

"Oh, I bet you'd like that, wouldn't you?" Gwen teased, although her words were smouldering with menace.

"You bet!" called one of the Were's from the crowd.

"Shut it, Ramon." Maia rolled her eyes, but she didn't seem upset, just amused.

Isabelle definitely didn't seem amused.

Simon cocked an inquisitive eyebrow at Gwen, who stood next to him with her hand poised at her hip. She flipped her raven-black hair over her shoulder and batted her eyelashes. Simon sneaked a glance at Jace, who wiped his brow from the glistening sweat gathering there. He had never noticed how the sun hit his hair, how he seemed to radiate or how toned and muscled his arms and abs were…and those eyes…..

Oh no!

Simon sidled closer to Gwen and rammed an elbow into her ribs, which he felt more than she did, but she noticed the motion.

"What?" She whispered.

"Don't." Simon warned.

"What?" Gwen said again.

"Just don't okay. "

"I'll stop whatever it is you're talking about if you actually tell me what you're talking about!" She hissed.

"Oh, a lover's spat." Jace called, and Simon saw Gwen visibly tense when she realised what the problem was, and then saw her shoulders began to quake with laughter.

Simon didn't find it quite so funny.

"Despite what my entire sixth grade gym class and gym teacher thought, I'm not that way inclined, so please don't make me think those….things, okay?"

"Think what?" She said mock-innocently.

"You know what?"

"Would you care to elaborate?"

"I really wouldn't." Simon seethed, and glanced over at Jace, and hated that his stomach muscles clenched slightly. Eugh, this would be _very_ uncomfortable.

"Simon, are you okay?" Isabelle asked, breaking him out of his reverie. He looked at her and was struck dumb. She looked phenomenal. Her hair was tied back from her face, and she wore black skinny jeans and a black t-strap top, her pale skin a stark contrast to her dark hair. It had only been a day since he had seen her, but it felt like forever. He never realised how much he had missed her until now. Fortunately, his feelings were all his own.

Unfortunately, he realised that she seemed angry. Really angry.

"Who's your friend?" She said, keeping her voice calm and controlled. To anyone who didn't know her, they would swear she seemed like her normal self, but Simon saw the way she avoided his gaze and focused solely on Gwen, and a thrill raced down his spine.

She was so jealous.

So why was he so happy about that?

"This is _my friend_ Gwen," he said putting subtle emphasis into the word, which Izzy automatically clocked. She became infinitesimally more relaxed and a smile played in her eyes.

"Hi, Gwen," Isabelle said, "Nice to meet you. Sorry about the whole whiplash thing."

"It's all right," Gwen and Simon said simultaneously.

Alec shared a puzzled look with Jace and Isabelle, but no one commented. Simon stepped forward, still a little stiff but definitely less pain stricken. He stood in front of Isabelle, whose eyes were shining and the corners of her mouth were twitching in a smile.

"Hey you," Simon said awkwardly.

"Hey you," She laughed.

Simon instinctively moved toward her, and pulled her into an embrace, catching a waft of her lavender-scented shampoo from her hair and breathing deeply.

"I missed you," he said.

"Of course you did," Isabelle replied, pulling away slightly, still smiling and staring into his eyes. "I'm totally adorable, and super-hot. Why wouldn't you miss me?"

Simon let her go and poked her in the arm. "I have no idea."

Jace cleared his throat obnoxiously and Simon rolled his eyes.

"You know, there's an alleyway back there, and I'm sure there's a mattress somewhere around here."

"I don't think they could wait that long," Gwen remarked, smiling at Simon and Isabelle's close proximity.

"I like this girl," Jace laughed, poking Gwen in the arm, before she grabbed his finger, tugged his arm and had it pinned against his back in a matter of two seconds. She twisted it and Jace groaned.

"What the hell?" He shouted, while Isabelle shared a shocked looked with Alec who shook his head.

"That's for your earlier "panties comment. And maybe you should spend a little more time training than fantasising about my panties."

"Fine," Jace laughed, releasing himself in a swift movement and pinning Gwen against the wall. Gwen pushed him off her and laughed, before saying, "just so you know, I'm not wearing any."

She walked over to Simon while Jace stood there in shock.

"What did I say?" He scolded her, but couldn't help but laugh and Jace's obvious frustration.

"Sorry, I can't help messing with him. Besides, he's hot. What's a red-blooded woman to do?"

"Take a cold shower, and keep it in your pants?" Simon suggested.

"Don't you mean his?" Gwen said.

"Just stop, okay." Simon warned.

"Sir, yes sir." Gwen laughed, saluting him, before strolling over to Alec to heal his broken nose.

Jace rejoined Isabelle and Simon at the Institute's wall.

"Clary's going to kill you," Isabelle teased,

"Oh, please, Clary's the love of my life," Jace said jerking a hand through his hair, "that Gwen girl is funny."

"Yeah, she is," Simon agreed, "and you like her."

"No, I don't" Jace scowled, took his Steele from his pocket and twirling it nimbly between his fingers.

"Of course you do," Isabelle said, snatching the Steele from his and tapping it against his forehead.

"And why would you think that?" Jace scowled, snatching the Steele back from her and pocketing it again.

"Should you field this or should I?" Isabelle asked Simon.

"Together?" Simon suggested, and Isabelle smiled. Jace, however, was less than happy.

"When did you two become such a nauseating couple?"

"We're not a couple!" The said simultaneously.

"Yet," Jace added, waggling his eyebrows suggestively, earning his a punch in the arm courtesy of Isabelle.

"Just for that, I'm not going to tell you," Isabelle smirked, earning a groan from Jace.

"Just tell me why you two are so delusional?"

"Fine. You like Gwen." Simon smiled, trying to drag out Jace's discomfort. It was his new favourite hobby, only second to drumming and song writing.

"And why would you think that?" Jace remarked, sarcasm oozing out of his mouth.

"Because," Simon said, "She's the female version of you."

Jace stopped dead in his tracks and contemplated what Simon had told him.

"Oh, you're right."

"Really?" Isabelle laughed.

"I do love myself. And why wouldn't I? I'm utterly fantastic."

"And modest to boot," Simon quipped.

Gwen waved her hand from ten foot away and Simon got what she meant. She was saying "Let's get this show on the road."

And about time too.

"My audience awaits me," Simon grinned at Izzy, who responded with a warm smile and laid an arm on his arm affectionately.

"Good luck,"

"Thanks," Simon noticed that Isabelle's hand seemed to linger on his arm, and he could have stayed there forever, just staring into her eyes. But they had work to do.

Simon broke away from her touch, reluctantly, and stood on the top of the stairs leading up to Institute. Now they had to get down to business.

"Hey guys," Simon began shakily, but soon grew more confident. "Thanks for coming."

"And why are we here?" Ramon, the whistling werewolf from earlier called, earning him an elbow to the ribs from Maia.

"I said, Shut it Ramon,"

"Fine, _mamacita" _he said, sidling closer to Maia, relishing any small bit of attention she threw his way.

"But, why are we here?" Maia asked.

"Good question," Jace said under his breath.

"We're here," Simon said slowly, trying to weigh his words," Because an apocalypse is coming. Tomorrow. And we're the only ones who can stop it."

He was met with dead silence.

It was a better reaction than he expected.


	26. With your very last breath

**A/N: Hey guys. I know, I suck. But I've decided to finish this, and soon. I skipped a chapter, which I will make a companion piece ince I finish this fic. I hope you enjoy this, and please R&R. It means a lot. **

**Without further ado...**

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* * *

**

It was 8.45 on the dot, when the cloud materialized once again.

Only it didn't just loom overhead, it grew.

And grew.

Until it finally took form.

Simon craned his head upwards, watching the demon swell in size, growing taller than poles and buildings, and a thought suddenly occurred to him:

_When did my life get so complicated?_

Gwen, Izzy and Jace stood by his side, watching in awe as the creature loomed toward them; lightning flashed across the sky and thunder rolled as it finally emerged from the clouds.

Of course, Jace had to be the one to break the looming silence. "Whew, that is one big-ass Demon."

"You're telling me?" Gwen said. Her eyes were wide with fear, but also excitement. Simon could feel the adrenaline pumping through her veins. She was ready for a fight.

"You ready?" Isabelle whispered, knowing Simon would pick up on her words even in the slightest whisper.

Simon tensed his jaw and nodded. They knew this was coming. Delia had text Gwen after his band's gig and they had raced to the street corner.

"I guess you weren't lying, huh Vampire?" Ramon called from the back of the crowd, amid murmurs of agreement.

"Get ready." Simon called. Never in his life had he ever thought of himself as a leader. He never wanted to be captain in Gym, especially since he sucked at most sports that didn't involve a screen and a joy-stick, but now he was leading a rebellion against an apocalypse?

It wasn't exactly top of his list of New Year's resolutions.

The demon stretched out, crashing into a sky scraper and knocking a stone gargoyle free from its perch atop the building.

"Well, little vampire, we finally meet."

That voice again. The one from the pit. It was back.

Simon craned his head over his shoulder and gave Jace a steely look. "Whatever you do, protect Clary."

"I will," Jace said.

"Promise me," Simon pleaded.

"I promise. But why are you asking me to do it? You know I would anyway, with all my heart. So why now?"

"Because…" Simon gritted his teeth and thought back to his tactical training during dungeons and dragons marathons at Eric's house. "I need to know that she'll be safe."

"Fine." Jace pulled out a Seraph blade and it sprang to life in his hands. He then chased around the corner to the bar where Clary was waiting for them all. She had turned up to watch Simon's band, much to his chagrin, and was shocked when everyone bolted out the door without a seconds forewarning.

I have to protect her, Simon thought, I have to protect them all.

"Gwen, keep your guard up, Iz…"

"I'll look after her." Isabelle said. Simon had told Isabelle about his bond with Gwen. The thought sprang to his mind: If Jace was watching Clary, and Izzy was watching Gwen…who was watching Iz?

_I guess I am_. Simon steeled himself for a fight as the Demon spoke again.

"I told you, young vampire, that it would come to this."

"Actually," Simon countered, "you said a lot of vague things that never really amounted to anything. But hey, some people get brains, others get beauty, and then there are an unfortunate few, like yourself, who got a double-whammy of the stupid and ugly stick."

The demon grunted. "Curse your insolence."

"And curse your odour." Simon snapped back, climbing onto the back of an abandoned taxi and shouting at the top of his lungs.

Thankfully, the mundanes had been evacuated to other areas of the city and many scrambled towards the bridge thanks to Delia's quick thinking. She had sent the local stations reports of bomb scares and tornado warnings, and thanks to her half-fey ways, she had them eating up everything she tossed them: hook, line and sinker.

Cars sat stationary in the middle of the street, littering the pavement and allowing Simon and his army of teen supernatural's free reign of the streets. The Clave had been reluctant to help, and no one had been able to reach Luke and the others in Idris while they attended a meeting.

So they were pretty much going it alone.

And Simon had to step up.

"What do you want?" He called, watching as the Demon ambled forward.

"Why, isn't it obvious? I want you."

"Fine then you can have me. You can even have my number and bring me out for a nice lobster dinner of you want, just leave this city and these people, and I'm all yours."

"Simon!" Isabelle cried. He wheeled around and watched in horror as hundreds of wisps of black smoke seeped from the sewers and turned into minor demons, like nothing he had ever seen before.

"I see you've met my friends." the demon teased.

"Call them back." Simon growled.

"And why would I do that?"

"I'm giving myself to you. I'll do whatever you want. Just let them go."

The demon cocked his head, his red eyes gleaming while his coal coloured skin stood out against the street lights shine. He then threw his head back and gave the most unearthly and terrifying sound Simon had ever heard…he laughed.

"Oh, this is too much fun. You honestly think I came here just for _you_?"

"You just said you had?"

"Yes, well, what do Demons do best? They lie. I'm here because I want to be. The fact that you bare the Mark of Cain just made the timing all the more delicious. You freed me, did you know that? There was a seal on that mark, and once you branded yourself, well….would it be too cliché to say that all hell broke loose?"

"Yes."

"What a shame." The demon shook his head. "Well, I quite like it here. So, I would appreciate you and your friends leaving this city to me, and we'll be just peachy."

"Over my dead body."

"Bit too late for that threat, sonny." the demon chortled and fury bubbled through Simon. The demon continued "but I will help you meet the final death if you stand in my way."

"Bring it on, you colossal waste of space."

The fight began in a flurry of ichor and guts. Simon leaped off the car, swung off a lamppost and landed on the nape of the demon's neck. His skin was frigid to the touch, icicles dangling from the rocky texture. The demon swung his neck back and forth, trying to buck Simon off like a bronco. But he held on with all his might. Simon grabbed a knife he had swiped earlier, and held it in his hand, feeling it burn his skin, before he thrust it into the demons flesh. Ichor dripped down his sleeve and his vision blurred from the intense heat of the blade. He pulled back and thrust it in again, aiming for the demons temple, but catching the corner of its eye. The demon howled in pain, falling backwards against a building and knocking over a 100 metre pole. It fell slowly backwards, taking bits of buildings with it as its final act.

Simon lost his battle to hold on and slipped from the demons neck, speeding towards the ground. He braced himself for the fall, and closed his eyes….

They say that your life flashes before your eyes as you're about to die- and Simon doubted even a super-charged vamp could survive a two-hundred metre nose-dive.

But he didn't see his life.

He saw only one thing.

Raven-black hair, dark blue eyes and felt a warm feeling spreading throughout his being as he grew nearer to the ground. As seconds past, and he knew his time was about to come to an end, one word was all he wanted and needed to say, to breathe, to live before he died….

_Isabelle_.

He awaited the impact… but all he felt was a jolt in his stomach, a pulling sensation and a thud as he skidded, rather than smashed, into the ground.

"What?" Simon opened his eyes

Isabelle loomed over him, scrapes and bruises etched across her face and only made her seem more flawless to Simon's eyes.

"Don't think I'm letting you out of this that easy. We've got a war to fight…all hands on deck." she said, before thrusting her whip towards another demon and smirking with relish as golden ichor splashed over her clothes.

"Isabelle…" Simon said in wonder.

"Now is not a time for chick-flick moments, Simon." Gwen called, decapitating a demon as she spoke.

"Right, sorry." he said, before throwing himself into the fight.

He felt it before he saw it. He whipped around- watching Ramon and Maia tackle another demon, tearing it apart with their fangs, while Alec and Magnus took down ten apiece to their right- and watched as Gwen backed away from three demons who had tried to corner her in a fight, a look of triumph on her face. But she wasn't watching where she was going. She left her back exposed. The great Demon had recovered enough and could see Simon watching her.

"Gwen!" Simon called. But it was too late. The demon's claws swung like a pendulum towards her, threatening to tear into her flesh and bone and leave her to rot and die. She wouldn't be able to save herself.

Good things someone was thinking.

As Simon was about to chase towards her, bearing the brunt of the attack, a golden whip latched itself around Gwen's waist and yanked her out of harms way. Gwen landed on the ground behind Isabelle, shocked, as the demon's claw hit nothing but air.

"Shadowhunter rule number one," Isabelle breathed. "Always watch your back."

"Thanks Isabelle." Gwen breathed, unwrapping herself from her constraint, offering Iz a warm smile, before returning to the fight.

"Isabelle!" Simon called. "Thank you."

"I had to protect her," Isabelle shrugged. "She's a fellow Shadowhunter…and if she got hurt, so would you."

"Iz," Simon said softly, but he couldn't finish his sentence. The demon, in a fit of rage, swung again.

Only this time he hit his mark.

And Isabelle Lightwood was sent crashing into the ground.


	27. Deja Vu

"Isabelle!" Simon's voice came out hoarse and strangled, watching as Isabelle's head smashed into the concrete with a sickening thud and her body and limbs contorted in inhuman positions. Her battle clothes were torn and dripping and oozing crimson, hot, seeping blood.

He ran to her, dropping to his knees and cradling her head in his lap. Her chest rose rhythmically, but weakly, and her eyelids fluttered as her eyes rolled back into her head.

"No," Simon cried, feeling a burning claw through his throat, like acid scorching his skin. "No, Isabelle, stay with me. You'll be okay…"

"Iz!" Alec's cry broke through the cacophony of war surrounding him, hanging in the air like the heaviest of clouds. Magnus grabbed him by the shoulder, wrapping an arm around his chest and holding him back as he struggled to run to his sister.

"Let go of me!" he screamed and cursed, frantically fighting against his boyfriends grasp.

"No, not yet. It's coming back."

Simon craned his head upwards and heard that unearthly laugh once more. Red was all he saw- red hot fury clouding his vision and judgement.

He would get him for this. If it was the last thing he did. With his last breath, he would kill him for hurting Isabelle.

For hurting someone that he loved.

Gwen decapitated a few more minor demons before she realised what had happened. She raced over.

"What happened?"

"Watch her." Simon growled.

"Simon, what do you…?" before she could finish her sentence, Simon had leaped onto the building and was scaling the walls at lightning speed. All his inhibitions and questions had disintegrated once that claw had swung towards Isabelle like a grandfather clock- counting away her time, her life, with a swing and chime.

"Back again I see." He taunted, his red eyes glowing with amusement.

Simon leaped off the building and landed on one of those glaring, gleaming eyes, before sinking his teeth into the vile jelly and releasing a geyser of ichor which showered down on the streets and people below.

"Gah," The Demon screamed in agony, and Simon retched as the poison pulsed through his veins, working its way down his throat with the consistency of petrol and leaving a violent aftertaste for his violent actions.

Simon back-flipped off the Demon's face, landing on his chest and used the rocks and granite that comprised its skin as leverage as he aimed for the other eye.

He reached his target, despite the demon swatting at him with brutal force and scratched at the corneas and sank his teeth in once more until he knew that the creature was blind.

That should buy them some time to figure out how to send the thing back to where it came from…back to the depths of hell.

Simon abseiled down the demon's body before landing in a thud on the ground below.

That was when he was thrown into an alleyway with an almighty force.

He looked up and saw Jace stagger towards him, having been thrown back several feet.

The acrid stench of ichor stung his nostrils as he found his footing, his mind still reeling from the attack. Dazed, Simon stood and was greeted by Jace, who grabbed him and thrust him against a wall, clutching a silver dagger to the hollow of his throat.

"You." he spat, his eyes glowing and furious.

It was Dejá Vu.

"Jace…" he began.

"She's dying. And that's all you can say. Do something!"

Isabelle.

Simon's mouth grew drier than a desert.

"She's dying. She can't be. No…it wasn't meant to be her….it was supposed to…"

But it wasn't…he only assumed it meant Clary…but it was meant to be someone he cared about.

And no one, at that moment, mattered more than Izzy."

"The demon…we have to stop him. But I can't…not on my own… and Izzy…"

"Get a grip Simon. I can hold it off for a while, but I can't forever. She needs someone with her. And she wants you."

"Why?"

Jace looked to the ground, the dagger wavering at Simon's neck. He looked up again, and a stray tear flowed down Jace's cheek and his steely expression softened.

"Because," he said his voice cracking with emotion. "I love her, and she cares about you. She's asking for you Simon. Only you."

Jace released his grip on Simon, his hands shaking. He took a deep breath, steeled himself and called two seraph blades to hand.

"This should be fun," sheer determination rang in his voice. "I'll get him for this."

"I've blinded him, so it should buy us some time to figure out how to banish him back to the seventh circle of hell…I hear it's a bitch this time of year."

Jace barked a laugh. "You got that right. Now go."

Jace ran off, accompanied by Alec and about twenty others as they tackled the demon in a head on collision. Simon saw Magnus and Clary standing over Isabelle's body. Clary was shaking, Magnus kept checking his watch with impatience and Gwen knelt on the ground whispering words in Isabelle's ear.

Simon heard them.

"Hold on. He's coming. He'll be right here. Just hold on."

"Simon!" Clary screamed, her hands racing to her mouth before she raced to him. She threw her arms around his neck and pulled him into a hug, which he couldn't return. He was too stricken, to numb, to do anything but watch Isabelle's limp form lying haphazardly on the ground.

"Is she…?" he asked, his voice barely reaching an audible level.

"She's alive…" Clary murmured, but Simon couldn't help but pick up on the rest of the sentence.

She's alive…for now.

_It's all my fault_, his thoughts attacked him like a hurricane, destroying every part of him and causing utter devastation.

Slowly, Simon walked towards Isabelle, and bowed to his knees as he held her hand. She tried to squeeze his fingers and gave him a reassuring smile that didn't quite meet her eyes.

"Hey you," she said. "I did what I said I would. I protected her…I protected you."

"Yeah," his voice was almost dead. "But I didn't. I'm so sorry Iz."

"Don't…"

"This is…"

"Don't." Isabelle's anger shocked him out of his sullen state. "Don't you dare say it. What am I, Simon?"

"Beautiful, wonderful, amazing…."

"Flattery will get you nowhere," she said, but her eyes lit up with amusement while her pallor grew more ghostly as her blood loss increased.

"Can't we do something about that?" he pleaded to Magnus, watching the blood ooze out of her torn skin like a roaring river in a storm. Magnus shook his head.

"Nothing we do will help. If we apply pressure it gets worse. Gwen tried to heal her, but it didn't work."

From behind them, a tearing sound broke through the night, followed by the swishing of blades, gnashing of jaws and sounds of spells reverberating off city walls.

Magnus craned his head around and tapped his foot impatiently.

"What are you waiting for?" Simon asked, feeling Isabelle's hand tighten around his as her pain intensified. The demon's poison was taking its toll on her system. There wasn't much time.

A burst of fire burst in front of their eyes and Magnus snatched it in midair, closed his eyes and sighed. The ghost of a smile made its way to his lips.

"A sign." he said simply, before turning his back on them, throwing his arms to the air and conjuring up a portal.

"What are you…?" Clary asked, before the portal burst open and hundreds of men and women pored out in droves, bearing weapons, fangs, and menacing looking sparks.

The Clave and the Council had taken a trip to New York City.

Maryse Lightwood burst through the portal, followed shortly by her husband. She gaped at Isabelle lying on the ground, before gritting her teeth and bowing down.

"What happened?" her voice was resolved, but Simon could feel the despair pouring from her.

"A demon got me. He got me good." Isabelle choked. Her mother swiped a stray tear from her eye, kissed her daughter in the forehead and whispered "I love you Isabelle."

"Love you too, Mom." she said softly. "Now kick that things ass for me, will you?"

Maryse laughed, but needed no further instruction. Without hesitation, she raced towards the battle scene to face of against the enemy, followed by Robert, who also cried over his daughter but was determined to exact revenge for this child, unlike their last.

"Simon," Isabelle coughed again. The street was clear and the night air was covered in the stench of ichor as the last of the minor demons was slain.

Yes, Isabelle?"

"What am I?"

"You're a Shadowhunter." he said simply. "A brave and beautiful one."

"And there's no way more honourable for a shadow hunter to leave this world than in the act of saving someone else. It's part of the job description. If it wasn't this time, it could have been another. But at least we're ending a possible apocalypse." she smiled, blood bubbling at the corner of her mouth.

"But, what…what'll we do without you?" Simon choked, his words cut off with emotion. "What about your family: your mom, your dad, Alec, Jace…what…what'll I do without you? I can't…"

"Simon…" she whispered.

"I can't think of life without you Isabelle. I just can't. I try, and it's blank. It's empty. Devoid of light, happiness, love. There will be nothing. I'll be nothing….without you."

Isabelle's eyes fluttered closed and Simon shook her to wake her. "No, you can't. Isabelle, please…I think I'm…I think I'm falling…." he could say it. He had to believe this wasn't the end.

"No!" he said, grabbing her and kissing her, tasting her warm sweet blood on his lips and only thinking of the sensation he felt when he touched her, and the loss he would feel if it was the last time he would ever get to do that. It was the first time he had kissed her and meant it…and he didn't want it to be the last.

"Simon Lewis," Isabelle crooked a half-smile. "I think you love me."

Simon laughed through his pain. "I think I do too."

Isabelle's smile lit up his world, and then she said. "I can't say I blame you though. I'm amazing."

Simon chuckled. "I knew you'd say something like that."

Clary fell to her knees opposite Isabelle, tears streaming down her face. "Iz…"

"Take care of Jace, okay?" she said. "He may not say it, but he needs you. And you…" she turned her head towards Magnus, who had a sombre expression on his face. "Take care of my brother, or I'll haunt your ass."

"You'll have to die first!" Gwen said fiercely and looked at Clary with meaning. "If we work together, maybe…"

"Maybe…" Clary said thoughtfully, whipping out her stele and tracing runes on her skin, cursing as they disappeared without a trace.

"Something's wrong." she said.

_This is all my fault, _Simon thought, _me and my stupid Mark of Cain…_

And that's when inspiration struck like a lightning bolt.

Simon jumped to his feet and raced.

"Keep going…and don't you dare die on me Isabelle Lightwood."

Clary and Gwen called after him, but he ignored their pleas and races into the raging fire of war, thinking of only one thing.

Isabelle.


	28. Run, like a river of tears

Simon rounded the corner, his ears assaulted by the sounds of agonised screams and slashing seraph blades. Shadowhunters fell to his left and right, the scent of their blood almost too much for Simon to resist. But he had a mission. He focused on the scene before him, watching as the demon swung blindly, attacking people left, right and centre, not caring who it hurt as long as it hurt someone.

"Simon, what the hell do you think you're doing?" Jace screamed, while avoiding the demon's attack.

"I may not be able to see you, but I can smell you." The demon taunted.

"Yeah, I bet I smell like roses, don't I?" Simon called back, waiting for him to take the bait. It didn't work.

No matter what Simon did, the demon would not come near him. It was smart. It knew the consequences.

Alec fired arrows into the demon's skull, lodging them in its skull. The demon yowled in anger, cursing Alec. He raised his claws in attack, and Simon saw his chance. He raced towards Alec, throwing out of harms way and waited for the attack to hit him full force, arms stretched out like an eagle's wing, awaiting the blow.

"Simon!" Jace yelled, racing towards him.

But he was too slow. The Demon was too.

The momentum propelled his attack downwards and sped towards Simon.

The last thing he thought before it hit was: _Damn, this is going to hurt._

And he was right.

Simon was caught off guard by the absolute power and pain he felt radiating through his body as he was thrown backwards, crashing into the ground. Pavement cracked and turned around him from the force of the attack, and Simon's head began to spin. When he finally stopped swimming through a sea of cement, he pushed himself up on his elbow, mind reeling and smirked as the demon broke into pieces and exploded in a shower of guts and ichor.

Whatever happens to someone who bears the mark of Cain, it turned back on the perpetrator seven fold.

Why hadn't he thought of doing that earlier? It might have saved a lot of hassle…

And maybe Isabelle wouldn't be left for dead.

Jace jogged towards Simon, offering him a hand up. Simon took it. Jace pulled him up, then smacked him of the back of the head.

Jace cried out in pain and held the back of his skull.

"That was a really stupid thing to do." Jace rolled his eyes.

"Yeah," Simon said.

"But I'm glad you did it." Jace smirked. The show hunters all around them stared in awe as ichor rained down in droves around them.

"We have to go." Simon said, grabbing Jace and pulling him onto his back and giving him a piggy-back.

"What are you…?" Jace said, but his words were cut off as Simon ran at inhuman speed down the street to where Isabelle was.

They arrived at the scene and watched as Clary and Gwen tried to heal Isabelle simultaneously. Clary's eyes had glazed over and her hands seemed to move independently, as if the stele had taken on a life of its own. Gwen's hands glowed and her eyes were iridescent as she uttered incantations over Isabelle's body. Simon bent down and took her hand in his. Gwen's eyes flashed, and she screamed "NO!"

"What?" Simon asked, perturbed, and his throat closed as Isabelle's chest hopped off the ground and she crashed back down.

Simon grabbed her wrist and felt for her pulse.

He felt nothing.

"No, no no no nonononononnononononono/" Simon cried, grabbing Isabelle's shoulders and shaking her, trying to get her to wake up. "No, Isabelle…" He leaned down and with all the love he felt in his being, he kissed her and willed her to come back to him.

His chest tightened and he felt warmth spread through his body.

Simon leaned his forehead against hers, and felt an overwhelming sense of sadness as he realised he had lost her. He had lost her forever.

Just then, something tickled his cheeks, and he opened his eyes…

And was met with midnight blue ones staring back at him.

Simon leaped back in shock. "Isabelle?"

Isabelle pushed herself up on her elbows and stared around in wonder. No one said and word and just watched her, in awe.

"What's everybody staring at?" she asked.

Simon couldn't help it. He leaped forward and pulled her into an embrace, hardly able to believe she was alive.

The prophecy was wrong. He hadn't lost her.

"Hey, you." she said.

"Hey you!" Simon grinned, hardly able to keep himself from singing from happiness.

"Now," Isabelle whispered in his ear, and her words sent shivers of anticipation down his spine. "About that kiss…"

"Isabelle!" Alec, Mayrse and Robert raced towards them, and Jace pulled Isabelle up and hugged her as hard as he could.

"You just can't give up, can you Iz." He smiled, tears of happiness streaming down his face and he wasn't ashamed of them in the slightest.

"Squeeze any harder and you'll break some ribs Jace. You Know I'll have to break your face. Just to keep things even."

Jace laughed and pulled her off the ground spinning her around in joy.

Clary and Gwen stood to the side, solemn expressions on their faces.

"What's wrong?" Simon asked them, his grin never faltering.

"Nothing….really." Gwen said. She looked weak. Magnus strolled towards her, placed an arm around her and ushered her away.

"We have to go," he said. "You can meet the clave again, but not now. There'll be too many questions. Some of them saw what you just did."

"Why would they care?"

"Oh, they'd care." Magnus said. "They don't know you exist."

"Why?"

"Because you shouldn't. Warlock's aren't meant to be able to reproduce…"

"But…"

"Gwen," Magnus urged. "We have to go!"

Stunned at the news, and weak from healing Isabelle, Gwen left.

"See you Simon." she whispered, and she knew he'd hear it.

"Clary, what's wrong?" he asked her.

"The _Iratze_. It doesn't look right…there's something different…Maybe I'm just imagining things."

"Probably." Simon shrugged.

Isabelle was hugging and laughing with her family, when Simon strolled towards them.

"You know, I was right." she said when she saw Simon.

"About what?" he asked.

"That everything I do to you comes back seven fold."

"Yeah, that's a given. Just ask that Demon."

"No, Simon." She smiled. "Not just injuries…Everything."

He finally got it.

"Oh." he said, and she grinned.

"That was one hell of a kiss. Let's try that again." And without a seconds warning, Isabelle pulled him towards him and crashed her lips to his.

Simon was soaring and he never wanted to come down.

And what was better, was that when Isabelle moaned and sighed with happiness, he knew that she was feeling how he felt.

_Nothing can ruin this., _he thought.

He was wrong.

The screeching of bass and drums rang in his ears as his phone rang incessantly. Isabelle raised an eyebrow and Simon groaned. He checked the ID.

It was his sister, Rebecca.

Simon flipped open his phone and answered.

"Hey Rebecca. Sorry, I'm kind of busy at the moment…"

"Simon." Rebecca's voice was clouded with tears, and Simon's throat began to close.

"Rebecca, where are you? What's wrong?"

"I'm at the hospital." she sobbed.

"Why? What's wrong?" Simon began to shake.

"Simon," she choked. "It's Mom."

And he ran.

* * *

**A/N: Did you really think it would be Isabelle? :P Please R&R. One Chapter left.**


	29. The World stops turning

A/N: This was meant to be the final chapter. But it's not. The next one is. Thanks for reading.

And please review if you do.

* * *

"Rebecca!" Simon skidded around the corner and found his sister sitting on one of those uncomfortable plastic chairs in the waiting room, rolling the locket that their Dad had given her for her 8th birthday between her lips, tears rolling down her cheeks.

Simon had a flashback to that day. She sat in a seat similar to that one, fingering that locket, crying while doctors told them there was nothing more they could do. That their father had been dead on arrival.

"Simon!" She leaped out of the chair and pulled him into her, wrapping her arms around him and threatening to never let go. Her tears spilled down onto his shirt, and Simon couldn't have cared less. He grabbed her by the shoulders and stared her in the eyes.

The eyes that exactly resembled their mother's.

"What happened?" His mind was reeling. No. This couldn't be happening. No….

"She…" Oh God, Simon!" She fell against his chest and grief wracked her body.

"Where is she?" He pleaded, searching everywhere for a doctor who could tell him, help him find his mother. He had to see her. This couldn't be happening.

Not again.

Rebecca inclined her head and stared at her brother in shock. "Simon…" She said softly, more tears falling down her face. She didn't hide them. Why would she? It was a time to grieve.

Simon envied her. He couldn't let a tear fall. Not one. No matter how desperately he wanted to, his sockets remained dry.

"No…" He said, and Rebecca's arms tightened around her brother.

"It was…Just so sudden."

"What…" Simon struggled to find the words. He struggled to find a reason to speak. The world kept on turning. Life went on.

So why did it? Why did life go on? Why couldn't life, for just a moment, just stop and let him grieve? Was it too much to ask?

Apparently it was.

"What happened?" he asked again, his voice devoid of emotion, mainly from the shock.

"She was in the city, and there must have been some truth to those bomb warnings…"

"What?" Simon jerked back.

"She drove into town. She was rounding the corner of 72nd and 2nd and…"

Simon felt as if he would actually collapse and die. Again. And this time it would last.

No. This couldn't be true.

"72nd and 2nd?" He felt nauseas.

"Yeah," Rebecca nodded, her voice crackling with emotion. "They freed her, but it was too late. The impact….It killed her."

Again. Not again.

"This can't be…" he swallowed. "Not again."

Rebecca collapsed into the chair in the waiting room. Simon followed suit, hanging his head between his knees and taking deep, unnecessary breaths. His cell phone rang, and he flinched. Slowly, painfully, he flipped open the receiver and said "Hello?"

"Simon?" Clary exclaimed, her voice etched in worry. "What happened? Where did you go?"

Simon just hung up.

He couldn't deal with it. Saying the words would make this all the more real.

For hours, they stayed there. Rebecca grabbed Simon's hand and squeezed, before flinching because "it was so cold". Simon eventually went to the cafeteria and got Rebecca a bottle of Coke. Coffee wasn't really her thing; and by the stench of it, it wasn't fit for human consumption.

"Here." he said, offering her the drink, which she took with a half-smile of thanks. Neither of them was in the mood to feign niceties.

Simon's phone rang and rang. Clary. Clary. Clary. Isabelle. Eric. Clary. Jace. Clary again, and the Isabelle left him a voicemail, asking him to call her when he felt up to it, since he was obviously upset about something. Telling him he could talk to her, and she would be there when he was ready.

Finally, when his phone rang again, Simon decided that this time, he would admit it. This time, he would say the words and hope he wouldn't get crushed under their pressure.

"Clary?" Simon's voice was dead even to his own ears.

"Simon Lewis, why aren't you answering your phone?" Clary's anger radiated through the cell phone and Simon felt a headache build-up, swelling just above his eyes. Damn his acute sense of hearing.

"Sorry." he said. Although he wasn't sorry at all.

"That's all you can say? Sorry?" Simon heard Isabelle in the background telling her to calm down, and Clary hissing in response.

"We're worried sick here! You just upped and disappeared without a word. You better have a really good excuse."

"Yeah."

"That's all you can say? Yeah. God, Simon. We're your friends. What's so important that you just-"

"My mom died."

Simon hung up the phone, not waiting to hear her response. But he assumed it would be sunned silence. Three minutes later, he received a text from Isabelle.

**Where are you?** it read. Simon slowly typed out the word and sent it to Isabelle, while forwarding it to Clary. Despite how he felt inside, and how he craved isolation- he just wanted time on his own, to think- he knew that he needed someone. He needed a shoulder to cry on.

Metaphorically.

Twenty minutes later, Clary, Isabelle, Jace and Mayrse strolled through the doors. Clary raced to Simon and clutched him in a hug, tears streaming down her face. He tightened his hold on her and sunk his head into the crook of her neck, thankful that she was her. Both times, she had been here. She was his best friend. He needed her here.

Isabelle hung back, watching them. Her expression was sombre. Rebecca came around the corner, holding a bagel for Simon, thinking he needed something to eat, and not realising that it was about as far from a bagel as possible. She saw Clary hugging Simon, dropped the bagel on the chair and ran to her. Clary leaped into the girl's arms and the openly sobbed together, heads bobbing from weeping.

Simon closed his eyes and thought of everything that still needed to be done. He had already called his aunt. She was flying in from Portland to take care of her niece and nephew, organise the funeral…everything. She had notified the rest of the family, under Simon's request. He just couldn't deal with all that…not right now.

Isabelle took a tentative step forward, so unlike her general confident persona.

"I've never been in a mundie hospital before." She said, watching the flickering fluorescent bulbs and the buzzing intercoms and overworked doctors who passed her.

"Yeah, well I've been in them too much." Simon said quietly. Something in her resolve broke and she pulled him into a bone breaking hug, which he reciprocated with equal fervour.

"I'm so sorry." she whispered.

Jace placed a hand on Simon's shoulder, but didn't offer his sympathy. Only a nod. It was more comforting than Simon could have realised.

"What are you still doing here anyway?" Mayrse said, a note of sympathy in her tone.

"We…We have to identify the body, but we need to wait for m aunt….and we don't want to go home. Not…Not alone." Simon said.

"You're sure it's…" Isabelle said.

"Yeah. We're sure."

"What happened?"

Simon had that very same question.

"Becks?" Simon called, and she raised her tear stained face over Clary's shoulder.

"Mm-hm?"

"What actually happened? How did she…" he could barely say the word "die?"2She was in the car, going into the city. She heard about the bomb threats and she wanted to make sure you were okay…"

Simon felt his stomach plummet. If he hadn't sent out the bomb warning to clear the street, she'd be alive. But Rebecca continued and Simon felt his world stop turning, finally, as the truth was revealed.

"And then a one hundred foot pole fell onto her car and crashed through the hood. She never stood a chance."

The pole.

The one that the demon had knocked over.

That Simon had _caused_ him to knock over.

"No…." Simon breathed.

He had killed his mother.

He turned around and ran out the door, Rebecca screaming his name.

But he couldn't. He had to leave. This was all his fault.

His stupid Mark of Cain.

His actions had killed his own flesh and blood.

The Mark of Cain curse said he had to wander the world alone.

And wander he would.


	30. To Infinity and Beyond

**24 years later: **

"A bottle of B positive, please," Simon said, leaving his money on the counter and fixing the bartender with a bored look. The guy shrugged, grabbed the money and turned, fishing a bottle of blood from underneath the counter.

After all, the Hunter's Moon didn't discriminate.

Well, not when good money was involved.

Simon sighed and yanked his hand through his hair. It had been almost ten years since he had last stepped foot in the city, and this stop was to be almost as brief as the last.

It was Rebecca's son, Connor. He was graduating from High school, and she had asked Simon to come.

Simon and Rebecca had kept in touch by email ever since he had skipped town. After leaving the hospital, Simon had raced home, feeling empty inside. He flitted inside, grabbing his wallet, a bag of clothes, some bank cards and a picture of his family-in happier times-before leaving his childhood home forever. Simon grabbed a piece of paper from his backpack and scrawled a note to his sister:

_Rebecca, _

_I'm sorry. _

_I'm sorry I've left you alone to deal with all this, but I just can't do it. I'm not as strong or as brave as you are. I never have been. _

_No matter what, know that I will always love you, and you __are __my family. _

_Please don't try to look for me. You won't find me. Just know that I am safe, well and alive, and just have to go it on my own. _

_If you ever need me, email me. I will check in. _

_I'll keep in touch, but for now…_

_I guess this is goodbye. _

_Simon. _

He had left the note on the coffee table in the living room, and was about to leave, when a gnawing feeling pulled in his gut, and he couldn't help but add:

_P.S. Don't forget to feed the cat._

Simon and his sister were never very touchy-feely. They kept their emotions in check. That tid bid, he knew, would make Rebecca smile.

Of course, it hadn't stopped her from searching.

For the next two years, Simon had to keep his head down, hiding in underground clubs and living among Vampire covens and enclaves across the globe, knowing that if he braved the outside world he would be found.

Because Simon Lewis was declared a missing person.

His face was plastered across milk cartons and newspapers, with public service announcements begging him to come home threatening to haunt him.

Then, on his eighteenth birthday, he knew the hype had died down. He was officially an adult.

And he didn't want to be found.

On his eighteenth birthday, at the stroke of midnight, Simon had pulled the hood away from his face and strolled into a nearby all-night internet café and logged into his emails. After scanning through the twenty or so messages he'd received since he had last checked them, he sent a message to his sister.

_Happy Birthday to me. _

_I miss you, Becks. _

_But this is something I have to do. Congratulations on graduating from Phoenix._

_I knew you could do it. _

_I'm so proud of you. _

Ten minutes later, a message came up on screen.

_Rebecca would like to chat. _

Simon accepted her request and IM-ed her_. _

**Becky-Lew: Simon! You're okay?**

**SI-FI: Yeah, I'm okay. **

**Becky-Lew: When are you coming home?**

**SI-FI: …..**

**Becky-Lew: Okay, I get it. But my graduation ceremony is next week, at the university, and I want you to be there. **

**SI-FI: Becks…**

**Becky-Lew: I don't care if you're an "adult" now, Simon. I'm your sister, and you are, by proxy, my slave. YOU ****ARE**** COMING!**

**SI-FI: All right. Stop shouting!**

**Becky-Lew: I always win in the end, don't I?**

**SI-FI: Now there's the sister I know and hate. **

**Becky-Lew: =P**

**SI-FI: What time?**

**Becky-Lew: Success. **

**SI-FI: What time?**

**Becky-Lew: 2. But can you come at 1? I want to talk to you. **

**SI-FI: Rebecca…**

**Becky-Lew: Simon, please. I won't try and force you to come home, or drug you, or even slap you across the face for abandoning me…**

**SI-FI: I'm sorry.**

**Becky-Lew: I get it, Simon. You were angry and upset. But I'm not any more. I just want to see you. I just want to see my brother. **

**SI-FI:….**

**Becky-Lew: Simon? Simon, are you there?**

**SI-FI is offline. **

He had, in fact, turned up. Rebecca saw him and ran into his arms, pulling him into a bone-breaking hold and tears slipped down her cheeks while she moaned about ruining her make-up. That day, as he watched his sister receive her diploma and turning the tassel on her cap, Simon had never been more proud in his life. Afterwards, she had dragged some unsuspecting male by the arm and introduced him to Simon as her boyfriend. Simon, although initially shocked, had to smile when he saw how happy his sister was. He could see the light in her eyes when he smile at her, and saw the adoration in his face when he looked at Rebecca. She was happy.

So Simon was too.

That day, she joked about Simon being _her _best man, and he felt his stomach plummet. He then took Rebecca by the hand, sat her on a park-bench and explained why that wouldn't be possible.

He told her what he was.

Needless to say, she wasn't exactly happy with the whole thing.

But after a few hours of reassurances that he was still the same person, but would just never grow up, as well as her checking his pulse fifteen times just to make sure he wasn't pulling her leg, she accepted his fate.

The last time Simon had seen Rebecca was ten years ago, when her second son, James, was born. That was the last time he had been in the city. He had gone to see Clary and Jace back then, as the struggled to control their tearaway toddler and watch their other daughter simultaneously.

He had seen Alec, Magnus, Maya and Gwen the times before that.

But he hadn't seen Isabelle.

Isabelle lightwood had eluded him for the past twenty-four year. Simon knew that it was his own fault; that if he hadn't left maybe they could have been together, seen how things had gone…

Maybe they would have been happy.

"I guess I'll never know," he said to himself, earning him a look from a nearby werewolf. Simon raised his bottle to him, took a deep swig of the crimson liquid and listened to the music radiating from the juke-box in the corner.

"Haven't seen you here before?" A voice whispered seductively in his ear, sidling closer to him and leaning against the bar. Simon looked from the corner of his eyes, took another gulp, then answered.

"I haven't been here in a while."

"A passer-by, huh?" she laughed melodiously while touching his arm flirtatiously. Simon looked at the hand on his arm and looked away again.

No matter what, he had never felt that connection, that spark since the first time.

The only time.

"You could say that." Simon said, turning himself around to face her.

She was stunning in the extreme. Her long hair fell down her back in waves, giving her an unkempt, sexy look that seemed effortless. Simon assumed, for her, it was. She leaned back, showing off her lean and toned body, while sweeping her hair behind her ear and flashing Simon a dazzling smile.

"Wow, you're even hotter from the front."

Simon cocked an eyebrow.

She shrugged. "What? You've got a hot back."

Once again she fixed his with a dazzling, charming smile, which radiated through her beautiful green eyes, witch gold flecks for emphasis. It was an odd combination, blonde hair and green eyes.

"So," she gave him a lazy smile. "What's you're name, stud?"

Simon's shoulders started to quake.

"What's so funny?" She asked, her temper flaring up.

"Oh, Keely, You've grown up haven't you?"

The girl was taken aback. "How do you know my name?"

Simon shook his head. "It's been a while since I saw you….you look just like your dad. Except for your eyes…"

She looked confused, and her fingers twitched. She was fingering the hilt of seraph blade on the belt on her dress. "You know my…."

Then realisation dawned on her.

"Uncle Simon?"

Simon smiled. "Keely Lightwood. It's been a while."

Keely sat down on the bar stool next to Simon, her face glowing red from mortification. She couldn't quite meet his eyes, and Simon had to bite his lip to refrain from laughter.

"I can't believe I just hit on my Uncle Simon….My mom's best friend. My Dad's best man!" She threw her face into her hands.

"One of them. Alec was definitely _the_ Best Man, though."

"By the angel," She screamed in frustration. Simon left a comforting arm on her shoulder, and she flinched away.

"Hey, you weren't to know. And it's always nice to get a compliment from a gorgeous girl."

She inclined her head. "You think I'm gorgeous."

"Obviously. As does every other male in this bar, since most are shooting me daggers."

"Oh," she said simply.

Simon grabbed her chin gently, looked her in the eyes and placed a soft kiss on the cheek.

She blinked.

"You've grown up…I'm just too old for you." He said simply.

Keely rolled her eyes. "You're not _that_ hot, you know. I'm just bored."

"I'll bet. You'd have to be to waste your time in this dive." Simon said, and smiled apologetically at the barman who grunted in indignation.

"Yeah, I'm just waiting for someone."

"Oh yeah. A boyfriend?"

"No," she laughed breezily. "As was proved by that little performance, I'm flying free and single."

"Yeah, well, you and me both."

"You aren't propositioning me, Simon?" She teased. She was like Jace: always equipped with a smart remark.

"No. You and I both know your Dad would kill me, and kill me dead."

"Good old dad." Keely rolled her eyes.

"So who are you waiting for?"

"I'm going shopping for Seraph blades. They've all gone dull, thanks to Warren," she hissed. Warren was her younger brother, and by the sound of Clary's emails, wasn't nearly as talented in the shadow hunter department as Keely, but did excel in art.

"He's practicing extra hard then?"

"Yeah. Not that it'll make a difference." she grinned wickedly. "I'll still kick his ass ten ways from Sunday."

"So, who's going with you?"

"Oh, it's just me and Aunt Izzy."

Simon's chest jolted. "Isabelle?"

"Yeah."

"She's back?"

Keely looked at him questioningly. "Yeah. She's been back for years. She helps Mom and Dad run the Institute."

The first time Simon had come back to the city, Isabelle had been in Bangkock, hunting lower level demons. The second time, it had been Moscow and she had single-handedly taken down a renegade Vampire clan who were planning on massacring several sectors of the city. London. Berlin. Rome. Geneva. Peru… she'd been everywhere. She'd even hunted Wendigos in the Pacific Northwest.

She was a one woman hunting machine.

And Simon missed her with every fibre of his being.

"She's coming here?" he asked intelligently, and Keely rolled her eyes.

"That's the general idea, yeah."

Would she remember him? Would she know he was back?

Would she care?

After all these years, he wondered what she'd be like. He remembered the twinkling in her midnight blue eyes, the cool front and the warm heart that lay underneath it.

He had loved that girl.

He still loved her.

He didn't think he would ever stop.

Keely straightened up. "Oh, there she is." She waved, and Simon wheeled around, looking for Isabelle as she would be now.

And shocked by what he found.

He blinked, several times as he tried to come to terms with what he was seeing.

He watched as the girl, no older than seventeen, with long raven black-hair, stunning features and midnight blue eyes that sparkled like the night's sky, approached him.

She was reeling from shock. "Simon?"

So she did remember him.

"Isabelle?" His voice broke, and he cleared his throat as she watched in amusement. Keely turned her head, watching the exchange between the two, and made an excuse to leave.

"You know what? Jessie Carstairs wanted me to give her whipping lessons, so I think I'm going to head back to the Institute."

"Keely…"Isabelle began.

"It's fine, Aunt Izzy, honestly. God knows she needs the help. You two should catch up. Bye."

As Keely sauntered off, Simon began to think that he really liked that girl, the she turned around and said "If this gets carnal, I don't want details, okay?" Then she grinned and ran off.

Then he realised that she and Jace might be a little bit _too _alike.

Isabelle and Simon just stayed in a stunned silence.

Simon sneaked a glance at Isabelle, who caught him looking and grinned.

"Isabelle, what…how?" he wasn't exactly articulate.

"Well, I guess I have you to thank." she smiled.

"How?"

"That healing rune that Clary drew in me that night, the night the demon attacked, wasn't a healing rune. She went into a kind of daze, and mixed with Gwen's chants, and you taking my hands, well…it flipped."

"So what rune was it?"

"Re-animation."

"Huh?"

"Simon, give me your hand."

Stunned, Simon offered her his hand, electricity bolting through both of them at her touch. She placed his fingers on her writs, at her pulse point, and he waited.

And was met with nothing.

"I'm dead, Simon."

"Isabelle…"

"Well, you know, technically. I'm just kind of frozen in this body, never growing up, never dying…just this."

"Isabelle…"

"Hey, it's every 41 year old woman's dream, right? To be stuck in a 17 year olds body…"

Simon cut her off with a kiss.

Every moment, every instance of longing and love melted into her in that moment; he willed it into her.

She responded with equal fervour, his hands snaking towards her lower back and hers laced in his hair, increasing the passion and deepening the kiss. Finally, when he felt as though his chest would burst, he hugged her closer and broke their kiss, smiling broadly against her lips as they captured his again.

"Simon, my Simon…" she whispered, peppering kisses across his face and setting his soul on fire.

"I didn't realise you were such a romantic." he teased.

"I'm not," she quipped, "but 24 years, three months and two days and do funny things to a woman."

Simon grinned again, before sweetly kissing her soft lips and vowing to never let twenty four years pass before he got to do that again.

There had been other girls, other women…

But there was only ever one Isabelle.

His Isabelle.

His one and only.

"So, you wandered too?" he asked.

"Yeah," she smiled, hiding a secret behind her eyes.

"What?" he asked.

"It's nothing."

"I'll get it out of you, you know?" he said, and she fixed him with a glare.

"I'd like to see you try."

"So would I." he admitted.

Isabelle rolled here eyes. "Fine, I was wandering, but…I always hoped I would wander into you."

If Simon had held anything back, then every wall he'd built up was broken down with her words and he swept her into the most mind-blowing, satisfying and loving kiss that he could have thought possible. When he finally released his grasp on her, she sighed in contentment.

"I could get used to that." she smirked.

"You will." he whispered seductively.

"Right, until you leave again." she teased. She wasn't upset, just stating a fact, and Simon was taken aback by her words.

"Last time I left, I'd just killed my mother. I thought I had cursed myself, and was determined not to do it to any one else. But I'm older now, and I know that I can't go back and change the past, but I can decide my own future…and I've decided that I want you in my future…if you'll have me in yours."

She thought about it, and smiled. "Why don't we just live in the moment, and see how things go. I mean, we've got eternity to work on it, right?"

"Right." He smiled.

She kissed him, simply, on the lips and grinned.

"It's you and me, babe. To infinity and beyond."

_ The End._


End file.
